Young Writers Society

There is a moment when you realise something, a moment when the idea finally seeps in. You’ve know it, this idea has always existed in the back of your mind. It has made a home in my mine, half of it at least. The idea, knowledge, law, whatever you wish, has always been there. You think you aspire to it, I’ve aspired towards this concept. This concept of power. I’ve wanted it, longed for it, thought it would fix everything. But I’ve never considered the feeling, because I thought I’d never had it.

I’ve always thought of power as a grand wish that could fix everything, always out of my reach because it was just too perfect. It would solve all my worries, and that’s why it is so hard to reach. Power was a charm, something in dream, but something that I knew was real.

But I never made the most important connection, never tied the idea to what was around me. Power was to mystical for my life, and I never put two and two together.

I looked down at the floor boards, red tinted wood shined under the dripping of water. I stared down at them, fixated. I then raised my right hand before me, bringing thin fingers and chipped blue polish into my vision. My left wanted to follow, it screamed, wanting to create symmetry. My right hand shook, the cut on the back of my hand bled the smallest bit, getting washed away by the water that made the floorboards glisten. My left arm trembled, she trembled, wanting to follow, conform to my actions. Her old habit had taken years to break. I was not able to walk until the age of seven because of her habit, her need for symmetry.

She wanted to follow me and I was why. I had the power, when we were first conceived I had won. I held power, I’d always held it. But it was to normal, pounded into my mind too much for me to have noticed. I’d never made the connection, never thought that power would do anything else but fix everything. I’d never focused on controlling someone else. But I did it everyday, I controlled Left, I controlled her. I caused her to follow me.

She followed because I desired, not because it was her habit. This was power, the ability to control others, have them follow your every whim. I’d had it forever, but it had still never helped me. Never saved everything. All I had was her, all I had was Left. And I’d always had Left, I’d stolen her, and she was mine. Mine to control, mine to make follow, mine to beat down when she mustn't follow.

The floorboards creaked and the water covering them splashed as I fell to my knees. My legs the same distance apart, my hands clenched in equal fists. My eyes were squeezed shut, my jaw taunt. And it all aligned, it always aligned, everything was always symmetrical.

Everything was the same, right to left.

Everything but who had the power.

Useless.

Disgusting.

Power.