…my twin sister?!?
What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t recognize that I was looking at my own sister when I made that
wish? A lot of people took notice of what happened. I quickly blurted out, “I wish she was fully clothed
again and that no one else would notice what just happened!”
My sister’s clothes reappeared as if they were never gone. Everyone else on the street who had taken notice
of my sister’s predicament immediately ignored her and continued on his or her way. My sister realized she
was clothed again and regained her composure. She looked all around her to see if anyone paid her any
attention. I decided that it would be best if she didn’t notice me, so I made a silent wish that if she saw
me she would not realize it was me.
She glanced at me a few times but never reacted like she knew me. This told me that silent wishes worked,
too. My sister shook her head a few times as if to rid herself of a headache, and then she continued on her
way. I decided it was time for me to do the same. I didn’t want to cause any more problems like I had just
done.
My name is Joe and my sister’s name is Nicole. Fortunately our parents didn’t give us names with the same
initials. We shared an apartment together that was decent enough for a pair of 25 year-olds still getting
started in the world. We were particularly close, not just because we were twins, but also out of necessity.
Both of our parents were gone. Our mother died four years previously due to ALS. Our father never recovered
emotionally and died two years later after having a massive stroke. We had no other relatives, no
grandparents, aunts, uncles or cousins, so we were truly on our own.
When we first moved into our apartment following our father’s death, we pretty much became recluses for about
six months. We went to work and went out for necessities, but that was pretty much it. Neither of us felt
like facing the world, mostly out of a misguided feeling that it was to blame for taking our parents from us.
Over time we were able to heal ourselves and feel normal.
I had always heard that twins had their own language. We never did. At least we never had a verbal language
of our own. What connected us was our ability to read each other through non-verbal communication. From a
very early age we could tell what the other thought just by a facial expression or a slight shift in body
language. It was almost as if we were connected via telepathy.
This actually led to us having our own little games. They were really own our private practical jokes against
other people. Our primary game was to pretend that we really didn’t like and were in constant competition
against each other. If we were alone we acted normally, but if anyone else was around we behaved as if we
wouldn’t mind seeing the other live somewhere else. We drove more than a few babysitters to their last wits
this way. However, we ended this game once our father told us about our mother’s condition. We apologized to
them and admitted what we had done for so long. Rather than be angry with us, they both found it amusing. I
always thought they were happier to know that we really did love each other.
There was another game we had, one that didn’t being until we reached our teenage years. One time I
accidentally walked in on my sister in the bathroom. She had just taken a shower and for some reason I didn’t
realize she was still there. She was naked, too. Rather than screaming or cursing me out, she took it in
stride. She even teased me and said that I’d never get a girl as hot as her. This is when we were 14! But
being who we were, we devised a little game out of it. If we tricked one another into seeing ourselves naked,
then we had to do something for the other one. It ranged from doing the other’s chores to doing the other’s
homework to making prank calls and other assorted things. There were more than a few occasions when we both
thought we had the other tricked, only to realize we played at the same time. Therefore, we owed each other.
This game just gradually fazed out towards the end of high school and beginning of college years, mostly
because we started to go on dates.
However, neither of us had ever really had relationships lasting longer than a couple of months. Nicole would
always complain that the guys she dated didn’t have a sense of humor, were too full of themselves, or were
just plain assholes. I was convinced that one of them had hit her, but she denied it. I insisted on doing
something back to him but she refused to let me. Once I saw that even talking about it caused her pain, I let
it go.
My problem with girls that I dated was that I just didn’t feel any deep connections. Most of them were
lovely, and I was still friendly with most of them. But I just didn’t felt like there was something missing.
Inevitably I found myself comparing each girl to Nicole. This one didn’t have Nicole’s smile, or this one
didn’t have Nicole’s humor, or this one didn’t have Nicole’s drive to help other people. There was just
always something.
As I returned to our apartment I finally remembered that Nicole had a date tonight. I hope that my error
wouldn’t ruin the date before it started. I sat down on the couch and turned on the television. I found
nothing all that interesting to watch and so I turned my attention to the ring. So far it had done some
pretty interesting things. What else could it do?