Double Vision

Chapter Nine

                  The sound only escaped me for a few moments before a hand was clamped over my mouth. It was a remarkably solid hand, too, which was crazy enough in itself. Body parts belonging to the vision of my dead sister were surely not supposed to feel so real, and yet here it was anyway. It wasn’t the first time something had fallen outside the lines of sanity in this room.

                  “Shut up!” Reese hissed. “You’re going to wake the whole house. Do you really want to put Mum on alert after you’ve spent the whole night out with a boy?”

                  I realised then she was eerily close: my face was level with her own, which seemed to shine with the same sort of pale glow I’d noticed those weeks ago. All of a sudden, a jolt of alarm went through me, and I jumped back from her hand.

                  I felt like I was supposed to say something – anything. Not least because this was happening again, after I’d spent three whole weeks convincing myself that it had all been part of an alcohol-induced dream. Taking a few shaky steps backward, I kept my gaze fixated on Reese, not daring to let it falter for one minute. Let out of my vision, who knew what would happen?

                  Trembling steps led me backward until I felt my legs hit the edge of my bed. Not hesitating to lower myself onto it, I tried to control my breathing as the feeling of shaky disbelief overcame my entire body.

                  “I think I’m going to pass out,” I managed to breathe.

                  “No, you’re not.” Reese’s voice, calm and level across the room, was the polar opposite of my own. “You’re fine.”

                  It was the same thing she’d said to me countless times, all dotted at various points through the years. Reese was the kind of person who believed in picking yourself up and getting on with it; she had neither the time nor patience for slackers. She was the one who’d drag herself into school with a raging cold and spread it around to half her friends, then complain a week later when they were bed-bound. Being her twin meant I was obligated to do the same; whether it be a cold, cramps or a case of flu, she’d pull me out of bed and tell me not to be such a wuss. It was kind of ironic, really, that it had been her heart that had given up so easily.

                  “I thought, last time… I thought I was dreaming,” I said. “If I wasn’t, then what…”

                  “Listen to me, Callie.”

                  Her voice was so commanding, so full of authority, that I had no choice but to look up to where it had come from. I wondered then how she did it: how, even in death, she managed to look so at ease. In the middle of the dimly lit bedroom, she stood with her arms folded, fiery hair framing a face that somehow didn’t look out of place. She stepped forward, ending up right in front of me.

                  “Calm down,” she told me, in a low voice. “Don’t overcomplicate things. This is as real as you think it is.”

                  I couldn’t help but let the incredulous look slip onto my face. “That doesn’t help me.”

                  “I never said it would help.” Reese straightened up. “I didn’t come all the way here to act like a therapist. You should get enough of that at school. All I came for was a chat with my twin sister. Is that such a crime?”

                  I blinked up at her, finding my eyes transfixed by her mere appearance in front of me, our eyes locking onto each other’s in the most impossible way. I had spent so many hours revisiting her image from those weeks ago, reinstating the belief that it had all been a dream, and yet to have it laid out plainly in front of me again was somehow more startling than before.