Status: May or may not continue depending on the overall outcome. But we'll see!(: ~
Boundless
"Why do we always chase the ones that runaway?"
The sun slowly setting just behind the trees. The sky pink with passion, dashed with yellows and oranges to show fiery, splashed with blue remains of the earlier hours. The market isn't far from our apartment, so we walk a mile to the flashy lights of the night-lively city.
Jayden and I don't speak of "that night", ever. Not once has it fell into conversation since. After I left, leaving him to soak up the memories in our tiny living room, we acted as if nothing had ever happened. Sometimes I question if it really did.
"...you and Danny?"
"What? Sorry, I didn't catch that."
He laughs. "Just like you, Aiden. Always lost in the clouds. I said, how are you and Danny?"
"Oh. We're good, I guess."
"You guess? Common, tell your brother about your boy troubles."
"I don't need your lousy advice." Jayden has always caused pain in my relationships. "The last three break-ups have been because I believed your judgments."
"I was only trying to help." He has always been the one...
"I seriously doubt that." ...That steals them away.
"They're just petty little relationships, nothing serious." It was him, who made us gay.
"Maybe I am serious about them! Why can't you realize that when I have something, it's mine. It's not yours to steal, Jayden!" Or was it me?
We were so young back then. I never knew that it would matter this much now, eight years later. We were only eight. Young, curious, lost. All we had was each other. Still to this day, all we have--is each other.
"Let's go," he says, without even a change of expression. "It's getting late."
We walk through the entrance of the late-night Supermarket. He grabs a cart and uses it as his body support.
"If you don't want me stealing your boyfriends then why don't you stop telling me about them?"
I sigh, "Because." The answer I have isn't one I want to share.
As always we're getting those stares. Those stares of amazement and sudden happiness. Points and smiles. It's like they've never seen teenage identical twin boys before. Sure, twins these days don't go for the whole mirror image thing. Nowadays twins have their own clothing styles, their own lives, their own personalities, their own hair styles and shoes, their own rooms, and their own friends. But not Jayden and I. We are one. We have the same friends, and (because of Jayden) the same boyfriends. We buy identical clothes, we style our hair the exact same way. Slick jet-black. The hair that shapes our faces touches down to our shoulders on each side. Our bangs are cut evenly in a diagonal fashion across our foreheads. It's styled differently everyday, but always the same as each others. We're twins and we're proud about it.
"Um, we need carrots, lettuce, apples, oranges, bananas, and grapes in the produce section." Jayden rolls the cart in slow-motion across the floor.
"Geez, do we really need that much?" I start pulling apples and putting them into bags.
"Da'know. That's just what Dad put on the list." He shows me the long, handwritten arrangement. I nod, laughing a little at Dad's over-the-top grocery list. He's always been a try-hard. So precise about everything he does.
We used to live in a huge house, with Mom too. A giant estates neighborhood. We were only in Kindergarten, but already we were in a expensive, ingenious private school. Our father was brilliant. He brought in so much money, but we rarely saw him. He was always working.
But then Mom died.
Brutal death too. That's when Dad started to form a habit. Her death was the change of everything for us. Our houses started to downgrade. Dad kept getting fired. We switched to less expensive schools, over and over again, until we finally had to join a free-school county. We started to see less and less of dear ol' Dad, to the point that we wouldn't see him for days. That's when Jayden and I got close. Mom died when we were five. After three years of cosmic torture, we got to the closeness point where kissing became something we spoke of every night. It was something we wanted to experiment.
"Aiden? I'm cold." Is what he would always say. That same line, night after night. He would walk up to my bed on the other half of the room, stand there, with the quilt our mommy made us, and wait for my response.
Which was always, "Then come here." And he would climb in my bed, wrap the quilt over our bodies and cover our heads, and pull me close into his chest. And always, the desire to know what the big boy world was like, would form into words and create conversation.
"Don't you wonder why they do it?" He said, one stormy night.
"Because it feels like magic."
"How do you know?"
"I don't. But Mommy and Daddy used to laugh and make fun of each other then Mommy would always smile and Daddy would kiss her. They looked happy when they would do it. Like loving each oder' is magical."
"I want to know how happy they felt."
"Do you think we could be as happy as them?"
He nodded. "I'll make you smile just like Daddy made Mommy smile."
"Do you wanna try?" One of us had offered.
"Maybe one night, but not tonight. It's late and Daddy wont be happy if we're tired fer school tomorrow." Said the other, declining the offer. At least, for right then.
"Yo, Aiden. What kind?"
I snap back into reality. "Huh?"
He rolls his eyes, smiling. "Foggy today in Aidenland, isn't it?" He's standing in front of the milk. I guess at what he meant.
"Low fat. Get the big jug, Dad's been drinking more than usual."
Jayden snickers. "And I always thought milk was bad for hangovers."
I glare. "He's not always drunk or hungover, Jayden."
"Uh-huh, whatever you say."
He starts to roll the cart down aisles as we talk, me throwing things in the cart as we pass by.
"Do you think Dad will ever get help?"
I shake my head. "If he were, then the only choice they could make would to put us in an orphanage. That means a possible split between us."
His eyes ice over, the way they looked at the funeral eleven years ago. "But if he doesn't, he could get fired again. That means no more money. We wouldn't be able to pay the bills."
We're lucky enough that we have access to all the bank accounts. That's including the money Mom's family left for us. They knew Dad was going to become trouble for us. It was in case the only choice left was to leave.
"Don't think about the negative, Jayden. Dad's still smart. He's the smartest man at his work. That's the only reason he's not fired. They don't care if he's an alcoholic, without him the company would go out of business. As long as we're in charge of the money, we won't get into too much trouble."
It's true we take some of Dad's paycheck money and deposit it between our account and the safety account, but overall we live paycheck to paycheck. We aren't greedy or spoiled, or take advantage of access to all the bank accounts. If it wasn't for us paying the bills, we'd be living on the streets. We've learned since age six how to care for ourselves. We learned to clean the house, cook meals, get to school on our own, answer important phone calls, stay out of the way of Drunk Dad, do laundry, and even run errands.
"Eh, guess so. By the way, I'll have to stop by a convenience store on the way back."
"Why's that?" I say, taking a box of cereal from the shelf.
"I have to pick up a few things. Will you be able to manage on your own?"
I nod, a bit displeasured that I'll be walking alone.
"Good," he smiles.
We walk up to the check-out counter. Jayden starts to place food on the conveyor belt. I come face-to-face with a girl, probably our age. Blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs. Probably the sexiest looking girl for any man. But neither Jayden nor I are interested. She starts to scan the food that rolls by, chewing bubble gum, her platinum blonde hair in pony-tails.
She smiles. "Hey." Soothing and soft. She looks back at Jayden. "You two are twins, right?" She asks like we aren't.
"Obviously." Jayden snickers, not even giving her eye contact.
She looks back at me, assuming I'm the nicer one, but as I said, Jayden and I are the same. "Ya' wanna hang out sometime?" She winks.
"I don't think so."
"Aww, is someone shy?" She pokes the tip of my nose with a sparkly-pink fingernail.
I raise an eyebrow.
She leans over the counter and whispers, "I think we'd have fun together. All three of us, if you know what I mean." She smiles.
I pick up the few bags we have and laugh. "We're not interested in you at all."
Jayden laughs quietly behind me, leaving Miss Ashley (according to her name tag) to bask in the realization that not every man wants a woman.
"Ah, that was fun." He grins. "Well, I'll be off now. I'll see you at home." He gives me a hug like always, takes the credit card, handing me the keys and leaves me abandoned in the middle of the parking lot. I turn toward home and loose myself in foggy thoughts.
So you know Jayden and I are close. You know that we had a little twincest a few years back. You know that our dad is an alcoholic and that our mom is dead. You know it was because of the incident that night that our sexual orientation was determined. So at the age of sixteen, living the life of adults, forcing the burden of our father and deceased mother, what are we to do? To us, life is but an extraordinary mistake.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. I take my phone from my pocket, smiling at the screen.
"Hey Danny," I coo.
He's crying. "Aiden..." No, he's sobbing. "I...I didn't...mean to! I'm so sorry...!" His words, blubbering over the phone. "I feel...so bad...for what...I did. Aiden, we have to...I'm sorry!"
Jayden and I don't speak of "that night", ever. Not once has it fell into conversation since. After I left, leaving him to soak up the memories in our tiny living room, we acted as if nothing had ever happened. Sometimes I question if it really did.
"...you and Danny?"
"What? Sorry, I didn't catch that."
He laughs. "Just like you, Aiden. Always lost in the clouds. I said, how are you and Danny?"
"Oh. We're good, I guess."
"You guess? Common, tell your brother about your boy troubles."
"I don't need your lousy advice." Jayden has always caused pain in my relationships. "The last three break-ups have been because I believed your judgments."
"I was only trying to help." He has always been the one...
"I seriously doubt that." ...That steals them away.
"They're just petty little relationships, nothing serious." It was him, who made us gay.
"Maybe I am serious about them! Why can't you realize that when I have something, it's mine. It's not yours to steal, Jayden!" Or was it me?
We were so young back then. I never knew that it would matter this much now, eight years later. We were only eight. Young, curious, lost. All we had was each other. Still to this day, all we have--is each other.
"Let's go," he says, without even a change of expression. "It's getting late."
We walk through the entrance of the late-night Supermarket. He grabs a cart and uses it as his body support.
"If you don't want me stealing your boyfriends then why don't you stop telling me about them?"
I sigh, "Because." The answer I have isn't one I want to share.
As always we're getting those stares. Those stares of amazement and sudden happiness. Points and smiles. It's like they've never seen teenage identical twin boys before. Sure, twins these days don't go for the whole mirror image thing. Nowadays twins have their own clothing styles, their own lives, their own personalities, their own hair styles and shoes, their own rooms, and their own friends. But not Jayden and I. We are one. We have the same friends, and (because of Jayden) the same boyfriends. We buy identical clothes, we style our hair the exact same way. Slick jet-black. The hair that shapes our faces touches down to our shoulders on each side. Our bangs are cut evenly in a diagonal fashion across our foreheads. It's styled differently everyday, but always the same as each others. We're twins and we're proud about it.
"Um, we need carrots, lettuce, apples, oranges, bananas, and grapes in the produce section." Jayden rolls the cart in slow-motion across the floor.
"Geez, do we really need that much?" I start pulling apples and putting them into bags.
"Da'know. That's just what Dad put on the list." He shows me the long, handwritten arrangement. I nod, laughing a little at Dad's over-the-top grocery list. He's always been a try-hard. So precise about everything he does.
We used to live in a huge house, with Mom too. A giant estates neighborhood. We were only in Kindergarten, but already we were in a expensive, ingenious private school. Our father was brilliant. He brought in so much money, but we rarely saw him. He was always working.
But then Mom died.
Brutal death too. That's when Dad started to form a habit. Her death was the change of everything for us. Our houses started to downgrade. Dad kept getting fired. We switched to less expensive schools, over and over again, until we finally had to join a free-school county. We started to see less and less of dear ol' Dad, to the point that we wouldn't see him for days. That's when Jayden and I got close. Mom died when we were five. After three years of cosmic torture, we got to the closeness point where kissing became something we spoke of every night. It was something we wanted to experiment.
"Aiden? I'm cold." Is what he would always say. That same line, night after night. He would walk up to my bed on the other half of the room, stand there, with the quilt our mommy made us, and wait for my response.
Which was always, "Then come here." And he would climb in my bed, wrap the quilt over our bodies and cover our heads, and pull me close into his chest. And always, the desire to know what the big boy world was like, would form into words and create conversation.
"Don't you wonder why they do it?" He said, one stormy night.
"Because it feels like magic."
"How do you know?"
"I don't. But Mommy and Daddy used to laugh and make fun of each other then Mommy would always smile and Daddy would kiss her. They looked happy when they would do it. Like loving each oder' is magical."
"I want to know how happy they felt."
"Do you think we could be as happy as them?"
He nodded. "I'll make you smile just like Daddy made Mommy smile."
"Do you wanna try?" One of us had offered.
"Maybe one night, but not tonight. It's late and Daddy wont be happy if we're tired fer school tomorrow." Said the other, declining the offer. At least, for right then.
"Yo, Aiden. What kind?"
I snap back into reality. "Huh?"
He rolls his eyes, smiling. "Foggy today in Aidenland, isn't it?" He's standing in front of the milk. I guess at what he meant.
"Low fat. Get the big jug, Dad's been drinking more than usual."
Jayden snickers. "And I always thought milk was bad for hangovers."
I glare. "He's not always drunk or hungover, Jayden."
"Uh-huh, whatever you say."
He starts to roll the cart down aisles as we talk, me throwing things in the cart as we pass by.
"Do you think Dad will ever get help?"
I shake my head. "If he were, then the only choice they could make would to put us in an orphanage. That means a possible split between us."
His eyes ice over, the way they looked at the funeral eleven years ago. "But if he doesn't, he could get fired again. That means no more money. We wouldn't be able to pay the bills."
We're lucky enough that we have access to all the bank accounts. That's including the money Mom's family left for us. They knew Dad was going to become trouble for us. It was in case the only choice left was to leave.
"Don't think about the negative, Jayden. Dad's still smart. He's the smartest man at his work. That's the only reason he's not fired. They don't care if he's an alcoholic, without him the company would go out of business. As long as we're in charge of the money, we won't get into too much trouble."
It's true we take some of Dad's paycheck money and deposit it between our account and the safety account, but overall we live paycheck to paycheck. We aren't greedy or spoiled, or take advantage of access to all the bank accounts. If it wasn't for us paying the bills, we'd be living on the streets. We've learned since age six how to care for ourselves. We learned to clean the house, cook meals, get to school on our own, answer important phone calls, stay out of the way of Drunk Dad, do laundry, and even run errands.
"Eh, guess so. By the way, I'll have to stop by a convenience store on the way back."
"Why's that?" I say, taking a box of cereal from the shelf.
"I have to pick up a few things. Will you be able to manage on your own?"
I nod, a bit displeasured that I'll be walking alone.
"Good," he smiles.
We walk up to the check-out counter. Jayden starts to place food on the conveyor belt. I come face-to-face with a girl, probably our age. Blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs. Probably the sexiest looking girl for any man. But neither Jayden nor I are interested. She starts to scan the food that rolls by, chewing bubble gum, her platinum blonde hair in pony-tails.
She smiles. "Hey." Soothing and soft. She looks back at Jayden. "You two are twins, right?" She asks like we aren't.
"Obviously." Jayden snickers, not even giving her eye contact.
She looks back at me, assuming I'm the nicer one, but as I said, Jayden and I are the same. "Ya' wanna hang out sometime?" She winks.
"I don't think so."
"Aww, is someone shy?" She pokes the tip of my nose with a sparkly-pink fingernail.
I raise an eyebrow.
She leans over the counter and whispers, "I think we'd have fun together. All three of us, if you know what I mean." She smiles.
I pick up the few bags we have and laugh. "We're not interested in you at all."
Jayden laughs quietly behind me, leaving Miss Ashley (according to her name tag) to bask in the realization that not every man wants a woman.
"Ah, that was fun." He grins. "Well, I'll be off now. I'll see you at home." He gives me a hug like always, takes the credit card, handing me the keys and leaves me abandoned in the middle of the parking lot. I turn toward home and loose myself in foggy thoughts.
So you know Jayden and I are close. You know that we had a little twincest a few years back. You know that our dad is an alcoholic and that our mom is dead. You know it was because of the incident that night that our sexual orientation was determined. So at the age of sixteen, living the life of adults, forcing the burden of our father and deceased mother, what are we to do? To us, life is but an extraordinary mistake.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. I take my phone from my pocket, smiling at the screen.
"Hey Danny," I coo.
He's crying. "Aiden..." No, he's sobbing. "I...I didn't...mean to! I'm so sorry...!" His words, blubbering over the phone. "I feel...so bad...for what...I did. Aiden, we have to...I'm sorry!"