Warped Reflections

“Don’t fucking touch me!” snarled Oli, pulling his arm away from me with a grimace twisting his features.

I wasn’t that disgusting, was I?

“I’m sorry” I murmured to my brother, slowing down so I walked behind him and there was no danger of annoying him. Oli was my twin, my second half. Except... he wasn’t. He hated me, so, so much. I used to like to amuse myself by thinking he was like to everyone, but he couldn’t even look at me. He couldn’t even look at me.

He made me feel disgusting. Like I shouldn’t be alive, like I should just stop existing, not die, or runaway; that might annoy him. Just stop existing, a clean quiet get away. That shouldn’t cause too much fuss. I hope.

Oli was easy to annoy. Well, easily annoyed at me. Just having the same hair colour annoyed him, he dyed his, and he wears contacts. He can’t stand to be in the same gene pool as me, let alone be my twin. He didn’t used to have muscles; he only started gym because I wouldn’t. He only started being mean because I wouldn’t. He only started cussing because I wouldn’t.

He only hated me because he didn’t know I did.

Slowly, I lowered my eyes to the ground and followed behind Oli, wrapping my arms around my body and not looking up at people. Oli got annoyed when I looked up at people, he said I looked nosey. He only said that because people always looked at him. He dressed funny, that’s why.

Like right now he was in leather jeans, thick black boots covered in chains and studs, and a tight fitting Ramones t-shirt. Chains and belt decorated his waistline, clinging onto his jeans, necklaces hung from his neck and band patches patched up holes in his leather jacket. Safety pins stuck through his ears and an industrial bar bridged across each ear. He had that look about him that attracted attention, but no-one dared look him in his eyes.

Right now we were walking back home. I’d been round Kate’s house till late; mum couldn’t pick me up so she made Oli walk me back. She knew full well how scary Oli looked; no-one would come near me when he was here. But if it was just me; I doubt anyone would even think twice.

That was the problem, though. At school my brother just didn’t care, people could hit me around, push me down staircases or lock me in the cupboard, and if someone went and told him he would just shrug. The worse thing was; I wasn’t just assuming this, it happened. He really didn’t care; he really wished I would just cease to exist.

Sometimes I do, too.

Oli made me feel so bad about myself. I loved him to bits and pieces, because he was my brother, the person who I used to finish sentences with. But he didn’t love me, and that hurt. It was like a empty, persistent ache nagging at the back of my heart, coming to the front every time he said something to me, or gave me one of those looks.

I haven’t hugged him in four years.

four years

“Daryl?” I looked up from the path quickly, looking up to my brother face; then remembering what he said, averted my gaze to his chest. He told me not to look at him.

“Get in” He told me shortly, gesturing to the front door of our house. I hadn’t even realised we were home, I blushed wondering how long I had just been standing there and slipped inside the front door. Trying my best not to touch any part of my twin in the process, He hated me touching him.

The hallway was dark and I blinked my eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden loss of the bright yellow streetlights. Then, realising Oli would be coming up behind me any moment, quickly found the doorway to the kitchen and entered.

In all honesty, I don’t know why I came into the kitchen. I guess I just panicked at the thought of Oli and gone for the first doorway I saw, which happened to be the room I hated the most in the whole house. Kitchens had food, food made you fat, fat made you unattractive, I didn’t need to go any further down that road.

Since I’d already entered the kitchen I might as well get a drink, otherwise Oli would think I was weird and give me one of those aching looks. The worst thing about those looks must be how he doesn’t even look at my face, just slightly to the side or above. He won’t look at me.

I sighed heavily into my cup of water.