George

My brother was my idol as a child.  During the beginning of sophomore year, we became best friends.  George’s eyes are grey, and mine are blue.  George has a scar above his right knee.  On both of my elbows I have similar looking birthmarks, though one is a bit more faded than the other.  As a child we spent a lot of time at the park, building sand castles, and jumping off of swings, seeing who could jump the furthest.  Junior year we both went to a party; the host was a mutual friend.  They say that twins have a special bond, that they can communicate specially, as if to have a special psychic ability.  George was in the treehouse while I was on the porch.  At the moment that we all heard the crash, I felt George’s nervous state.  I ran to the treehouse, which was close to the alley, where two cars had just collided.  When I reached my brother, I took his hands in mine, looked him in the eyes, and said, Don’t ever scare me like that again.

Now, George lives on one side of town, and I live on the opposite.  Sometimes we call each other, but usually I just feel his presence, in the back of my mind.  I see his state, in the energy of the red of eyes of the people on the bus.  When I am witness to people being angry, I can tell how George is feeling.  Sometimes when George has a bad day, he drives past my apartment, and we know each other are there.  Sometimes he drives through the alley and beeps, and I rush to the window to see him pass, in his red car.  If he passes slowly, he is fine.  If he drives fast, he has something on his mind.  Sometimes he drives down the side street outside of my apartment building, without beeping, and I just know it’s him.  We feel each other’s existence and we are okay for the night.  Twins are siblings that are very similar, but are also unique in their traits.  I’ll never have a relationship with anyone as I do with my brother.  He is the only one who truly knows what I am feeling inside, all of the time.