Really HumanMature

Rae and Kace are twins. They fight crime.

November always seems so bleak and empty. Everything is already dead or dying. It would be downright depressing if the first snow didn't give me that warm feeling in my chest that I know should have worn off long ago.

It was snowing gently all around me, melting into my hair and on my jacket. I hadn't bothered with gloves, so the tips of my fingers were red from the bitter, empty cold. There was hardly any wind. It was just... cold.

The neighbourhood was quiet, peaceful. The houses were asleep, their lights off, looking more like hollow monsters than a welcoming hearth. The streetlights were just as cold. I didn't even know why I'd bothered to go for a walk at this time of morning. Maybe I was just restless. Or maybe I just wanted to get away from my brother for once in my goddamn life.

I could feel it -- the tether that bound me to him, pulling me in his direction constantly. If I was away from Kace for a day, it really started to draw on my energy. This morning, it yanked in earnest, as if the cold were making it brittle and stiff, more substantial. I pulled my hands out of my coat pockets with faint annoyance, and raised them to my lips to warm them with my breath.

I was coming closer to home. I really didn't want to feel that uncomfortable tug anymore, it was just making me more tired and irritable. And my legs were starting to get numb.

Another pull. Kace must be waking up, or something. And when he would actually have enough sense to look about, he would see I wasn't there and start to panic. Then he'd wake up Bryce and then I'd get yelled at. Like I hadn't had the "don't-you-dare-wander-off-like-that-again-young-lady" speech enough already. But really? Like I wanted to sit in that house all day long, doing absolutely nothing but trying not to die.

The soft, fresh snow muffled my footsteps as I quietly crept up to the front door. We didn't have a porch, but a short stretch of concrete under an overhand that tried to pass as one. The plastic lawn furniture sitting on it was dusted in a thin layer of snow. I very quietly opened the door and let myself in.

As I suspected, Kace was up. But as I hadn't suspected, he was alone. Bryce wasn't standing anxiously in the dining room, waiting to get up in my face. It was only Kace, sprawled out on the couch in the adjoining living room, watching cartoons and eating a bowl of cereal.

"Fuck you," he said from the couch. Didn't even bother to look up at me.

"Yes, good morning to you, as well," I drawled, slipping out of my snowy shoes. "Always such a pleasure, Kace."

"You're such an asshole, Rae."

"And you're a self-indulgent, selfish prick," I snapped. I shrugged out of my jacket and batted the snow onto the mat by the door. "What's your point?" Kace turned his bright blue eyes on me. Had I been someone else, they would have startled me -- they were bright almost to the point of glowing, and searing with anger. But I had been looking at those same eyes in every mirror for almost seventeen years.

"My point is," he said, "you could have gotten lost, or gotten yourself killed." He took another bite of cereal and tried to berate me around it while I sat down on the loveseat. "And then where would I be?" He swallowed audibly and jabbed his spoon at me. "Fucking dead."

"Can you honestly think of no one but yourself?" I asked, stretching my legs out in front of me. Bryce would kill me if he saw my soaked jeans dripping all over his furniture.

"Not when everyone else is being a selfish, arrogant bastard," he spat.

Kace and I were more alike than I preferred to admit. We had the same hot temper, the same light-blond hair and ice-blue eyes, the same drive to be reckless just for the sake of being reckless. We had the same need to be independent, which was nigh impossible with this stupid tether we had on us. He and I were both upset that we had to go almost everywhere together. The only place where we had some kind of rest from the incessant pull of each other's presence was at school, where we were at least within a mile of each other.

And even though I loathed to be in the same room as him in this moment, and the feeling was mutual, we did love each other. Really.

"Kace, would you mind shutting the hell up?" I hissed. "Bryce and Genny are sleeping."

"Screw you," he said. His voice burned with anger, but at least he was quieter. "Seriously, screw you. If you ever fucking do that again, I swear to God, if you aren't already dead, I will kill you." He got up from the couch to put his empty bowl in the sink with a resounding crash, then he stalked downstairs heavily. I sighed. He could be so moody. At least I was more reserved about it.

Ha. Yeah. Sure.

I turned off the TV and went to my room, which was across the hall from Bryce's and diagonal from Kace's. I very quietly closed the door behind me.

I hastily got out of my soaking-wet pants and pulled on a pair of soft, dry pyjama pants. I sighed and crawled into my unmade bed, which still smelled like myself and was tinged with sleep-sweat. It was 5:34 a.m.

I fell asleep for four hours, which is surprising, really, considering how much I didn't sleep on a nightly basis. I didn't wake up a single time. And when I finally regained consciousness at around 9:26 a.m., I felt oddly more exhausted than if I had slept for two hours in a night.

Maybe sleep would be more comforting to me if I ever actually dreamed at all. But I don't. Kace doesn't, either. We basically just become dead to the world for x number of hours while we regenerate cells, give our bodies a chance to heal. It is little things like this that makes me question our existence.

Sometimes I wonder if Kace and I are really human at all.

The End

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