The realization was gut-breaking, it marked the beginning of the end of our duple gang utopia. Gina was not in yet, more than twelve hours after her estimated time of arrival. The two-bedroom college hostel was heating up fast as I made frantic calls to all of her aides known to me. I could feel my frustration turn into fear then desperation before anxiety kicked in throwing my line of thought off, way off. My twin sister’s face now taunted me, her smile, beauty and strength making me weaker by the minute. A cold chill ran down my body as I thought of what might have happened to her. The possibilities were endless but only the worst came to mind, making it obvious I had stirred the demons in my mind. ‘She could have been kidnapped, she could be okay and her phone was just out of power, yet she could be somewhere in a bush house getting violated at this very moment.’ I couldn’t blame myself when the sweat finally came trickling down my temples. It hurt harder that even in the face of her absence I couldn’t bring myself to accept it, life without her. It just had never occurred to me that at some point we would be separated for one reason or the other, or that we inevitably and obviously would eventually have to take different paths in life. My comfortable bubble was exploding each second, with me pulling it back on each time, unsuccessfully.
Gina and I were born within minutes of each other. She was the elder twin, but did it matter that she was also the smarter one? She always seemed to know what to do in every situation, and I wouldn’t entirely be wrong if I said I might have survived this long only because of her. It didn’t help either, the fact that we had been within at most a square kilometre of each other since conception. It just occurred to me at that moment that I really couldn’t do much without her, or at least, I was too dependent on her. In as much as I was in turmoil, I recognized how selfish I had been to her all along. I couldn’t sleep that night, nor could I get myself to leave the house. I kept thinking, ‘… suppose she comes back…’. I stood on the balcony for an hour listening to the chaotic football chants, waiting. She could also be at the games, or so I thought. The only thing that made sense was that she was still with the new guy. Jeremih was a middle-aged wealthy man who worked for the Manoahs’ ranch. He was the only other person I had not called, and I didn’t have his phone number. I was in the process of ransacking her room for clues when there was a slight thump on the front door. I ran out fast, my heart working overtime with excitement. There she was, my lovely sister, lying in a messy heap, unconscious.
Suddenly it seemed that she was not breathing at all. I quickly checked for her pulse, almost having an epiphany at the reminiscent memory of the day she taught me how to administer basic first aid. She was very weak, and I had no second thoughts considering my terrible state of anxiety. ‘Call the ambulance.’ They couldn’t let me in her room those first two weeks she spent in the high dependence section. Everyone kept telling me it wouldn’t be appropriate, and that she was ‘not fit’ to receive visitors. The doctor claimed she had overdosed on heroin, but how? She was Gina, she didn’t even drink, not that I knew at least. There is something about father figures that blinds one of the other’s faults and makes them uncertain of their own decisiveness. We lost our parents to a car accident two years before, so she and I were now the only families we both had. She took up the roles of both our parents as soon as we received the news, and she was good, really good. Life was simple, she suggested something, made her case and if I agreed we did exactly that. It worked like clockwork. We always did have that very strong influence and effect on each other, common to most twins. We could have been identical if we were of the same gender, and we were before growth hormones came knocking. Father often joked that they had to paint my nose to avoid feeding me twice, or when guests wanted to tell the difference between us. I was the one making mistakes, and she was the diligent cleaner who moped after my messes. How could she be doing drugs? She had been busy and absent the last few weeks, but I understood that much. She had a boyfriend now, and her classes were definitely tighter on schedule than mine. Nothing I could think of came close to explaining the part of the story where she ended up getting hospitalized with a heroin overdose- neither did she seem to want to talk about it when we could finally talk.
The third week was a busy one for me, and I was getting anxious by Thursday. I had not been to the hospital, with classes and projects here and there. I was particularly excited when I finally got to the hospital that Friday, considering the terrible week I had. This was the day. I could finally get to talk with my sister. I was let in the room alright, the hard part was getting in my sister’s life at this point. It was as if she did not see me there at all. All she wanted was to get checked out. She was on edge, obviously still in withdrawal. The hospital had an obligation to report any incidents involving illegal drugs, but she worked there from time to time. They waived that law for her on the benefit of the doubt that she had been drugged. It was illegal but I appreciated it because if she was reported and prosecuted she could have faced jail time. I was not about to let my sister’s future fall through my fingers if I could help it. So I sat with her in that ward day after day, only leaving for provisions and perhaps an occasional shower all through the next week. Twenty-three years now and we had very little we didn’t know about each other. I could tell she was hiding something from me. She made little, limited or no eye contact at all, and she avoided the heroin aspect like the plague. We almost argued about it each time I brought it up. She said she was with Jeremih on that black Saturday, but she didn’t explain the overdose and how she came to turn up at our hostel unconscious and vulnerable. I still trusted her despite the charges, she was my sister regardless.
theScribe 
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