better than i know myself || a.l

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I have always believed that I had another person who went through life with me every minute; every second; every hour, as if that person was my twin in every single way possible. Many people that I met throughout my entire life think otherwise, however. They believe that we are both the same person, and that my other half was simply an alter ego of myself. I am my own person, and my other half was his own individual person. We just seem to share the same personality and mannerisms since the day we were born.

I was wrong.

When I realised I had an identical twin I realised that there was something significantly different between the both of us. Besides our names, of course; mine being Adam and his being Mitchel. Both of us share the surname Lambert, but in terms of personality and characteristics I was not expecting Mitchel to display the exact opposite of who I am. A few of my friends nickname me Light, and they say that because they found me optimistic, cheery, and seemingly never angry or sad in the aftermath of any bad thing that had ever occurred to me throughout my entire life. When I take a look at Mitchel, however, everything my friends had told me before just did not matter anymore. He was the exact opposite of me: fiery-tempered, dramatic and seemingly always miserable, and I had the habit of nicknaming him Shadow, for he may be similar to me, but he was a darker version of who I am, like the silhouette of myself I see on the ground when the sun is high. He had always tried to suppress all his emotions back when we were younger, but ever since that incident nine years ago, I had never seen him in plain sight, and I got to know of who he was exactly.

Nine years ago, Mitchel and I clashed for the very first time. I caught him surrounding himself with bottle after bottle of strong tequila, and I was worried that he would ultimately destroy his liver one day. I tried to grab the bottle he was holding, but he was so addicted he held on tightly, grabbing me by the collar with his free hand and picking me up from the ground. It was unbelievable how he was sober after he was drinking around five or so bottles heavily, because I knew that he was clear of what exactly he was doing to me. Before I knew it I heard glass shattering, Mitchel staring down at me as I flew straight out of the window, falling back down towards the concrete floor below.

That was the last thing I could remember before I thought I was dead, but I thought wrong. After two months in hospital with a broken spine and collarbone I finally got to go back home, but everything changed. Before I was thrown out of the window I shared my bedroom with Mitchel, but throughout the two months of getting hospitalised it looked as if someone renovated my bedroom completely. Gone was the bunk bed where I used to sleep on and in its place was a lonely little single bed tucked away in the corner of the bedroom. The windows had been removed too, probably to avoid any additional mishaps, and an oxygen metre hung proudly in its place, which confuses me, because every room in the house already had adequate ventilation. All the booze Mitchel cluttered up in my room had been cleared out, and it looked like he had gone along with it. The room felt half as small as it used to be, and next to the small coffee table was a large jet black wall. Strangely speaking, it was not concrete. I tapped on the surface only to find that it was some sort of glass, glass that showed my reflection rather than what was on the other side.

For once, after so many years, I was alone.

~

I woke up one morning to the sound of blood curdling screams from beyond the black glass wall. It was odd, after getting used to nine years of solitude, especially after Mitchel walked out of my life since the time he thrown me out of the window, and it scared me a bit, but nevertheless I wanted to know what was going on beyond the glass barricade. I pressed my ear against the glass. The screaming had stopped, but I heard a loud crash against the floor, as if someone was throwing furniture around. I leant my head on the glass, slightly frustrated. What the hell is going on? All I wanted to do today is just meditate or listen to some classical music or read and there's some form of ruckus happening next door.