Chapter 1

Emory

It's been one week since the accident - that dreaded car accident that imposed itself so selfishly into my life – however, not much has changed. Who am I kidding? Everything has changed. My mom now spends every waking moment with her new boyfriend, Peter. He was brawny. As a police officer, it was expected. He stood about six feet tall. His fiery red hair, so bright it made his emerald eyes glow. Not complaining, it has been years since my mom was able to express herself to anyone outside of the three of us. She had been so miserable after my father disappeared.

We were only ten when he left. It was a Tuesday in the middle of spring. Evelyn and I had just walked in from a long day at school, to find her passed out at the edge of her bed. Her face was flushed, her eyes red from crying, snot pouring from her raw crimson nose. We woke her up, trying our best to be gentle.

When she finally told us what happened, my sister and I could barely keep from crying ourselves, fearing it was our fault for his leaving. As a form of reconciliation, we would receive letters sporadically. Nevertheless, they stopped just as quickly as they started. Discovering her wailing on the kitchen floor was where the abhorrence for our father stemmed.

Every night after, she would sit up staring at his photo, crying for the gods to bring him back. Occasionally, I would still catch her, teary-eyed, looming over his portrait. One would think, after that, a hatred would form. Instead, when my sister or I would show distress, disdain, she would tell us, "It's not your fault. He loved the two of you so much," or "Don't ever speak of your father in that way”. You know, the way you would if a loved one had died, or something along those lines. In my mind, he was off somewhere, living life without the responsibility of twin girls.

Speaking of twins, Evelyn was born precisely five minutes after me. We were different in many ways. I loved to keep my dirty blonde hair at shoulder length, so it fell strategically around my heart-shaped face. My sister, on the other hand, was adorned with stunning Burnette hair that trickled down her back, making her already shimmering sapphire eyes brighter.

She stood a whole head taller than me and had no problem keeping her athletic build just that, fit. I was of short stature with a solid build. My sibling and I shared a unique connection where we could sense each other's pain. Our mother, at first, didn’t believe us. That was until the night of Evelyn’s first major incident.

It happened a few years ago, we were maybe eighteen. My mother and I were dancing in the kitchen, singing to fifties hits. Swirling and twirling as it belted from our stereo. She grabbed my hand, spun me twice, and dipped me just as the song ended, then faded out. A familiar melody played instead - it was Evelyn's song, which would often be played during her absence when thoughts of her would arise, and the sense of missing her became overwhelming.

The sorrowful melody bled from the speaker, invading my ear canals, until I acknowledged it was “Kentucky Rain” by Elvis Presley. Once it sank in, a sickly feeling twisted my stomach, and tears prickled the back of my eyes. Then, like a semi, it hit me, claws from the darkest demon, long and sharp, ripped the self-made water from my ducts.

I cried so hard that Niagara Falls would have been overshadowed in National Geographic, from the outpouring that bounded down my face. As I felt the panic ripple over my skin like the shockwave after an explosion, I was jolted back to reality and pivoted, left facing my mom, and the terror painted across her angelic porcelain image. My voice broke. My mind was frantic. I pleaded for my phone. The need to get a hold of her was dire. I had to make sure she was safe.

Once at the hospital, the nurse relayed the news to us that it was a five-car pile-up, yet she walked away unscathed. Our mother never doubted us after that. So, you can only imagine the betrayal I felt when I heard Evelyn had checked herself into rehab. I was floored. I didn't even know she had a problem. All I know is she blames herself for the accident. I tried to reassure her it wasn't her fault, but she wouldn't listen. I don't remember much. All I do remember is: