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..., with a chill that extended into his centre and could never be warmed. In a world of illusions, how could it teach him what he didn’t already know? He admitted to himself how he’d hated her; still hated her. She had stayed while he’d been sent away – she’d had his life.
Andre, always second, always last. Ignored and pushed aside for a golden sister. Why – why if they’d kept one child – why was it her and not him? She meant to drag him under but he grabbed her and brought her down with him, falling back into the waves. He felt consumed by hate and by fear; as if it was bursting through his skin, but he didn’t know what he hated most - Sophia or himself. She struggled, kicking at him, but he was stronger. He wrapped his hands around her slippery neck and tightened his fingers like he was moulding putty.
Where is the real world? He asked, looking up at the through water at a retreating sun. Where did it go?
Andre, always second, always last. Ignored and pushed aside for a golden sister. Why – why if they’d kept one child – why was it her and not him? She meant to drag him under but he grabbed her and brought her down with him, falling back into the waves. He felt consumed by hate and by fear; as if it was bursting through his skin, but he didn’t know what he hated most - Sophia or himself. She struggled, kicking at him, but he was stronger. He wrapped his hands around her slippery neck and tightened his fingers like he was moulding putty.
Where is the real world? He asked, looking up at the through water at a retreating sun. Where did it go?
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