Twins

Shane was in a place of peace. He always found this place when he was working, a job that he still attributed to luck. He still couldn’t believe that he was a genius, the word seemed so out there and he thought it didn’t suit him at all. Aside from his glasses and the nerd look he had adopted to help himself in the academic world, he was far from the stereotype.

He was a loner, true, but that was due to his family, and their financial problems. How could he spend time making friends when he had better things to do, more important people to take care of. Yet he was one of those boys that the girls lusted after, the body of a model, only hidden by his attempts at social suicide and how he hid behind his new genius and the clothing style that came with it. He supposed it was because, despite his attempted geek look, he oozed a bad boy atmosphere. This was because beneath his button up shirts, glasses and pens in ear, he had the chiseled body that can only come from one thing where he came from, the streets.

“Um… Professor Draven?” the words shocked him out of his reverie, his work being done in a robotic fashion.

“You were supposed to be out of here ages ago, you know the academics will be mad if you put in too much overtime. They don’t want you squeezing all the money or finishing this project too soon.”

Shane finally turned, setting a beaker down on the table in front of him. He knew he had recognized that voice as he saw his assistant, Laura, dressed in a mandatory lab coat, waiting for him.

“Sorry Laura, I just get swept into my thoughts when I’m working, my mind gets drawn elsewhere,” he said in an attempted explanation.

She merely sighed at him, “Why do we even bother? We all know you could finish on your own in half the time if we let you. But that’s only part of the reason I came down here, your mother called, said there was something to do with a family emergency? She didn’t sound too panicked on the phone, she just wanted you home as soon as possible.”

Shane frowned at her momentarily, then switched his look to a smile, “Thanks for telling me Laura. But if I’m going home you should too, no staying and admiring the lab.”

She chuckled and began to walk away, “Oh don’t worry, I won’t. Though I do have to memorize this place as I won’t be here long, not with the rate you’re going.”

He began to follow her, then thought better of it, and began to go along another route towards the exit. He shed his lab coat on his way, hanged it up quickly and began to walk the familiar labyrinth of white halls that made up his workplace. His casual clothes were on as he had merely draped the coat over them as he worked alone. He chuckled as he noticed that Laura hadn’t caught his infraction, or if she had, she hadn’t cared.

Not bumping into anyone else along his way he quickly exited into the cold night air. He caught a cab and began his typical return home. He wondered exactly what his mother needed. She had already picked up the boys from school without difficulty, maybe she needed money? Or perhaps was having one of her break downs. He knew it couldn’t be too bad, she called him at work for all sorts of petty reasons, especially when he was working too late. She had a nasty habit of meddling; attempts to stop him from overworking himself were only half of it. But he loved her, she was his mom, and she was family, even if he was adopted.

He thanked the cab driver as they pulled up to his apartment. He gave him a crisp bill and waited patiently for the return of his sparse change. He had learned the value of money, no matter how small the amount was. Pennies rolled into nickels, which turned into dimes and the process continued until it could be converted into a mouthful of food for a hungry family, his hungry family.

He quickly buzzed into the building, making a short trip to his apartment, opening the always unlocked door. He entered the room and felt a strange tense atmosphere, maybe he had been wrong about the situation, perhaps he should have rushed here, a real emergency on the horizon.

He found his mother in their quaint, tiny kitchen.

“Hello Shane, I’m glad you’re back in time for dinner. Didn’t want you to go hungry you know,” she let out a nervous chuckle as she spoke, her hands hurriedly chopping away at some vegetables with a strange, angry pace.

“Hey mom,” he said slowly, unsure of this strange situation, “Do you need help with anything?”

“Oh don’t worry about it, you’ve been working hard all day, just go sit at the table, it’s already been set for you. Can’t have my parental skills going to downhill,” again an unplaceable tone to her words, the same nervous laugh, increased chopping fervor.

He turned to go to the table just across from them, squashed in by the miniscule apartment. A warning bell tolled throughout his mind, sensing an unknown danger. He made a move to turn back towards his mom, a question tolling off his tongue. It was cut off by whispered words.

“I’m so sorry honey, you understand, don’t you?”

With that the world exploded into a painful haze of red, slowly draining to black, his skull throbbing from trauma. He understood, he really did, but he had expected more from them somehow, something better. Then everything dissolved into darkness.