Young Writers Society

OK, orginally I posted this under a different account, infinitexoxo, and I just decided to go back to this account. Don't ask. But, anyways, this is kind of cliche but I think my writing style has improved as a whole, so yeah, any feedback would be greatly appreciated.

It was December 26th. That was the day it happened, the day my world turned upside down and sideways. My twin brother, Forrest, hadn’t been talking much that day, it seemed as though words were begging to come out of his mouth but he wouldn’t say anything. I asked him if he wanted me to cook anything for him to eat. He said no, in a faint whisper, almost as if his voice disappeared.

I decided to cook for myself anyways, he retreated upstairs to solitude. I couldn’t say it bothered me, he’d rather be alone most of the time no matter how many times I’d told him keeping to himself was no way to go through life. I was slicing some tomatoes for a salad. I’m a vegetarian, and I figured Mom might want some too. That’s when I heard it, the sound that pierced through the silence and will forever be burned into my memory.

As if in slow motion, I dropped the knife to the ground, it landed with a cling-clink on the ground. My heart nearly stopped. I stood completely still, until I realized I had been holding my breath. I willed my feet to move towards the stairs, but it was as if they were glued to the floor. I tried to recollect myself and investigate. Maybe it wasn’t what I thought.

I started up the stairs and when I arrived at Forrest’s room I paused, even knocked. There was no answer. I opened the door and the first thing I saw was blood. Lots of blood. But for some reason at first my brain didn’t connect it to my brother. But, eventually after I got over the shock tears welled up in my eyes. I ran over to his body and kneeled down, shaking him. “Forrest! Forrest!” I screamed. “What the fuck!” He wasn’t breathing, he was already gone. I was shaking and sobbing and yelling. “No! Why? Why don’t you care!”

He thought he was leaving his own pain behind, but he created a whole new pain. Pain for me. Pain for my mom. Pain for a school missing a classmate. Pain for everyone around him. And he didn’t even realize it. I laid my head on his chest, tears dripping onto his shirt. “Forrest,” my voice was fading, I had nothing left. “I thought you loved me.” I looked up there was blood everywhere. On the curtains, the bedspread, his shirt, he was still there, blood oozing on to the carpeting. There was probably some on my cheek. Retching, I tried to hold in the vomit. I laid my head on his chest again until my mom came home.

That night, after they took Forrest away, my mom lay in bed next to me and held me really close to her. She whimpered over and over, “Forrest, why?” I remember that night, it was only a year ago. I was thirteen. But I just wanted to be Forrest, just so my mom would stop. If I could somehow make myself turn in to him, then everything would be okay. But, it wouldn’t happen. Her wavy hair had fallen over my cheek and she was holding my hand and she’d brush my hair out of my face. When I breathed in deep, some of her hair would fall into my mouth. I was crying. She wouldn’t stop crying.

She never really did stop crying.