Mirror Image
Two bells rang in the night. Tim always came at two.
James wiped tears with trembling hands, peered into the darkness at his twin.
He stood in the doorway, a twisted grin on his ruined face. “Come.”
James followed him to the banister.
Tim walked awkwardly, favouring the side that struck the floor weeks ago. “You go, I go. That’s what you said.” His words were mangled from his broken mouth.
Two bells had rung out that day, then a wet thud: Tim had jumped, missing the pillows laid out to cushion his landing.
“Jump!”
James sobbed.
Compelled, he climbed.
About the Creator
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from Katie Kelly Koppenhofer and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Message Me Afterwards
>That was a bad idea. I thought you knew… >Oh, the pathos! I don’t really know you as well as I should. In fact, I may not know the real you at all. That essential, sparkling you that you only reveal to a select few. Had I been paying more attention to the stories you are so fond of telling, in which you are invariably author, narrator and protagonist, I would not have been so foolish as to set you up on a blind date. After all, no friend has ever done anything of the kind for another. That’s preposterous. What is a friend, really?
By D. J. Reddall7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
This gave me shivers