《A pair of twins》


 Prologue

    In my flat¡¯s unlit kitchen, I was busy drinking all night. The room¡¯s darkness shaded the liquid, but didn¡¯t affect the taste.


    Water, of course. Getting drunk is not something I¡¯d do. Definitely.


    You might think the taste bothers me; it really doesn¡¯t. A few years ago, when I got a sip of my mother¡¯s red cup, it was sour and enjoyable. Not enough of a delight to drown myself with it, however.


    The crashing droplets made a sound with perfect lilt, the ones that hanged under the edge of my faucet before losing their grip. It was an annoying noise, better than silence.


    When I closed my eyes, the scenery didn¡¯t change, obviously. It switched from darkness to another, denser black, maybe.


    Two figures, twins, appeared before me. One had a red cap and a cropped white shirt over black shorts, the other a black cropped shirt and white shorts, the queens of maddening getups indeed.


    We stared at each other for a while. It felt long, a good hour, or a minute.


    Their lips parted ways to a sound. A party of nonsensical sounds, that blended together into a coherent whole.


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    A song that broke my brain. I chuckled in self-pity.


    Spirals appeared over the emptiness in my head, in layers of three or four, twisting my world one way, then the other, before making two loops over itself.


    I felt dizzy, wanting to puke, but I couldn¡¯t. All colors appeared in my head before merging into a blinding white.


    The color knocked me out in the kitchen once more. There was a lingering smell of cigarette, the one that I forgot to discard. I would later, though.


    Grabbing the cold glass, I emptied it.


    Water is great. You¡¯d never get drunk from water, contrary to beer or wine. Although the taste is indeed a tad lacking, they are small sacrifices.


    I didn¡¯t know why, but getting high on water made me forget about the twins for a minute. Next instant, they reappeared in a corner of my mind.


    In these few seconds, I was the happiest man alive.


    As the ashy smell bothered me, I extended my hand, grabbed the fag on the table and crumpled it. Because the stench stayed, my will gave up.


    A heavy sleep dawned on me. It leaned my body forward, sprawling over my plastic table. After drinking water, I wondered if I could sleep.


    The twins¡¯ figure shot up in my head as a picture of professional quality. I forgot about sleep afterwards for a third day in a row.

 Chapter 1

    My mother, whom I forgot about, once told me that the most unexpected encounters become the most memorable.


    As a subtle signal for my ensuing days, I never heard in what ways her statement became true.


    Anyway. University, I was biking home from that place.


    If a man came up to me, a sword stroking my gut, asking me to describe this place in a word, I would answer ¡®ant¡¯ -- because from a bird¡¯s eye view, the dozen thousands of students knotted together in a crowd move like ants.


    Another word I might use would be ¡®boring,¡¯ though in itself, saying that means my speech is what I criticized.


    While riding on my bike, hair slid backwards from the wind, I put my green earphones on.


    ¡®You really got me¡¯ from the Kinks started blasting through my ears, reverbing inside my brain. Their music were signs of great luck, emphasis on ¡®were¡¯.


    Each lyric, my body would move sideways to the song¡¯s rhythm. Then came the neat part, the chorus. I fidgeted my fingers on the grip in rhythm.


    Left, right. ¡®You really got me.¡¯


    Right, left, backwards. ¡®You really got me.¡¯


    I got myself into a good mood. That, and a soft breeze irking my cheek, were a recipe for forgetting my fatigue and stress.


    Well, almost.


    On the road, a red car stopped an inch away from crashing into me, because I turned at an awful time. Though the mistake wasn¡¯t his, the driver showered me in apologies, as if to avoid making a bigger commotion. That absurd reaction made me cow.


    An hour passed.


    A worn out, pale gray building towered me, an impressive term for a three stories high mess of debris. I pushed the wooden door open to a creaking sound; the usual one.


    On the left, the stairs. Rows of greasy stairs, a true lair of dirt and waste. On the right, the lift. Clean and dainty, a glance was enough to acknowledge the care and polish of this craft.


    My footsteps leaned left, as a pitiful way to improve my stamina. ¡®Incremental progress¡¯, or so I told myself.


    After a minute trapped in between acid stenches and cracking noises, I completed the ascend. Second floor, my flat stood a few meters from me, therefore, I wished to open its door soon.


    The reason being, I couldn¡¯t.


    Two girls, perhaps college students, sat on the last stairs, blocking the narrow staircase. One wore a white, oversized shirt falling over black short, and the other the opposite, though this time, her shirt was cropped.


    In conclusion, a black cropped shirt, and white shorts. It took me a few seconds to realize, but the first one had a cap on.


    A red cap, yes.


    Their outfits were confusing, so much so that it couldn¡¯t anything else but deliberate.


    A few thoughts clashed in my brain.


    Could I pass through? No.


    Then, perhaps a rude, but necessary talk? Yes, though I doubted my mental state would allow me to say diplomatic words of peace.


    Thus, faced with a lack of solution, I stood in place. Peering at the girls gave me a sea of irrelevant details.


    For instance, identical noses, cow lips, and a pair of pale blue eyes, or similar body stances, hugging their knees like a grounded kid would.


    The conclusive evidence screamed ¡®twins.


    ¡°Mia, isn¡¯t this guy staring too much?¡±


    As she parted her lips, I noticed a tiny mole next to them.


    ¡°Well, he must be quite weak, if he fell for us this quickly.¡±


    I glanced sideways, noticing the same mole twice.


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    ¡°Ten seconds, is that the human average? Maybe a bit higher?¡±


    It was the same lilting voice as before. A feminine voice.


    ¡°I think he¡¯s already bewitched. Mae, since when did we attract such wimps?¡±


    ¡®The girl on the left is called Mae, and the other Mia, or so I presume.¡¯


    ¡°It makes for a more interesting subject.¡±


    ¡®They have the same voice, also. Beautiful.¡¯


    Mia pointed her thin arm at me in an accusatory manner.


    ¡°The other guy we saw was more handsome.¡±


    ¡®Her skin is so pale, is she okay? That can¡¯t be.¡¯


    Frowning, Mae smacked her sister¡¯s limb out of the way, before


    chuckling.


    ¡°Look, he¡¯s already having the symptoms. Isn¡¯t that fascinating?¡±


    ¡®Even the way she laughs is cute.¡±


    The twins began staring at me, as a predator would drool upon seeing a glimpse of its pray.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. He¡¯s perfect.¡±


    ¡®They licked their lips in unison. Is that a twin thing?¡¯


    Mia clapped her fingertips. Mae did the same gesture without delay.


    The world faded black.


    Perhaps my body floated in a space. I couldn¡¯t tell.


    Time passed.


    They were no sounds, no smells, none of my senses.


    Also, no thoughts. By waking up, all of these memories would wither away.


    ¡®¡­¡¯


    A soft voice called me, like a whisper, ¨C


    ¡°.ey.¡±


    ¨C the exact warmth you¡¯d use to wake up an infant.


    ¡°Hey.¡±


    I felt like coming out of a thick fog. Puddles of brightness entered my half-opened eyelids.


    ¡°Is he awake?¡±


    A raspy feminine voice came out. After putting effort in regaining my vision, I saw her ¨C


    She flashed a perverse smile. ¡°I think so.¡±


    ¨C or rather, them. The twins, side to side, much like I remembered.


    ¡°What the¡­¡±, I muttered under my breath.


    My memories were blurry, scattered everywhere in sharp pieces.


    It was my first time meeting the two girls, though their name shone like the most obvious information in the world.


    Thus, my confused behavior was understandable.


    By turning my head, glancing sideways, a field of flowers clogged my sight. To be precise, a five-petal navy blue flower at the mercy of the wind¡¯s whims.


    The sky, however, was a pure and immaculate white. Such a scenery broke the rules of reality, yet I believed otherwise.


    With the same illogical outfits, the twins stared at me with nosy gazes.


    I recalled their names. Mia and Mae.


    Why, though? It was a valid question that I brushed off, nonetheless.


    ¡°Mister, look at us.¡±, Mae spoke, or perhaps Mia. I wasn¡¯t sure about anything in this state.


    My face contorted downwards, a complete mess. ¡°Who are you? Where are we?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡±


    In a thoughtful hum, Mia, definitely, did a loop around my grounded body from the left, before stroking my back once with her fingertips, then slapping it afterwards. I felt a burning sensation.


    ¡°H-Hey!¡±


    Mia walked back to her original position, next to Mae, a perverse grin tainting her demeanor, much like her sister.


    ¡°Alright mister, listen up.¡±


    They talked in unison. A sweet voice emerged from this blend.


    ¡°You just have to watch us.¡±


    I answered with a meaningless nod. My gesture didn¡¯t surprise me, as there was no opportunity to be. Their order rung absolute.


    Mia moved first. Her hands did, in strange and dainty circles that morphed into more complex figures, shining with unexplainable appeal.


    Embellishing the act was Mae, whose movements resembled a dance of unknown origins. Her white shirt fluttered in the air, guided by the soft breezes.


    Only then did I realize that the twins had black hair; a long and smooth mass that swung one way then the other, according to their momentum.


    I peered at them. Ogled, truthfully. Left, Mia. Right, the dancing Mae.


    My world shook. All except my eyes and ears became a hinderance.


    The scenery changed, its color too. First, a crystal waterfall, the purest imaginable, then an ethereal golden field of shimmering dandelions. If one word could fit these landscapes, it was beautiful.


    No, that was a lie, attributed to my dimness.


    I hadn¡¯t the faintest of clues as to how anyone could describe them. In retrospect, perhaps humanity was utterly lacking, defenseless against this blow.


    Faraway, a woman hummed a song, a whisper at first, that grew exponentially into a clear, audible sound. A nonsensical sludge of ideas or concepts.


    I thought so at first, bewitched by this phenomenon. Each second carried a deep, almost religious value.


    Then, it clicked. In a second ¨C no, an instant ¨C the ear-bursting mess became heavenly, aligning its every noise to a masterful level. An embrace from a god, was how I imagined the music.


    It was true, yet I became angry at myself, unable to formulate a better description. Maybe this reaction occurred to anyone experiencing this moment.


    The twins sang, danced, walked on flowers, and glistered in a bright white light, as an angel would, without any hints of perversity. They willed to convey a pure and complete happiness.


    Yes, this was the missing piece.


    ¡®They made me the happiest man on earth.¡¯


    My vision became blurry, my head dizzy. As the world shattered around me, I felt my body contorting and melting into nothingness, burning cold.


    A field of blue flowers surrounded me. Stroking my head were Mia and Mae, a slight grin on their rose lips upon hearing my unsightly cough.


    With my fingers knotted around my neck, I panted for air, then spat out a white puddle of liquid.


    I had forgotten to breathe, met death¡¯s door.


    Was this the purest happiness, or an aftereffect?


    I guessed so.


    ¡°The experiment is over, I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    Glancing upwards, Mia¡¯s voice hinted at a sincere displeasure. A white notebook made of silk hid Mae¡¯s face, tucked against the blank pages, and a pen twirled between her index and middle finger, then to the ring finger.


    ¡®Her gestures really are beautiful.¡¯


    A scraping sound filled the noiseless field, separate from time itself, for a minute or so. I stopped counting altogether.


    ¡°Okay, I think we¡¯re done. Quite the specimen indeed.¡±


    The meaning behind their exchanged escaped me.


    ¡°Mister.¡±


    Two gazes fell on my own. A boundless universe seemed to seep out of the blue iris, though it may have been a hallucination born from their beauty.


    ¡°Are you happy?¡±, a soft whisper asked me.


    The answer slid off my tongue as matter of fact.


    Today has been the best day of my life.

 Chapter 2

    Since the morning, something or someone had been irking me. A lilting sound, pounding the back of my head like a perfectly aligned clockwork.


    It began in the early morning, a dizzying headache like I¡¯d drank until dusk yesterday.


    My answer was a frown, because no half-opened beer cans sprawled near my bed. Forgetting about it also appeared to be a stretch, thus, I pushed through this mild discomfort.


    A spilled cup of coffee stained my wooden table, one of today¡¯s many mysteries, as my blurry memories didn¡¯t contain the living room one bit.


    With a shrug, I buried the issue under the mountain of pressing matters. I was late for college.


    Well, not that big of a worry.


    Yet, the headache rung like a metal ball slamming against my brain.


    When I opened my flat¡¯s door to grayish rays of light, scattering through a faraway window, a descending row of stairs filled my vision ahead.


    Without a warning, the world spun.


    A burst of heat began to fill my body, now soaked in sweat. In alternance, an icy cold froze me, then a hellish warmth, many times until I almost passed out.


    As my head cracked open from the inside, human-shaped hallucinations formed on the stairs, clogging my flipped foggy vision. After cooling down and wiping my forehead, they had disappeared.


    Was I sick? Definitely, although it irked me to admit it.


    ¡®Elevator, for sure.¡¯


    It didn¡¯t work. I cursed inwardly, as it should¡¯ve been.


    The stairs appeared one after the other like an endless pit. Due to my dizziness, stretching a minute into a complete journey, I limped with a slouched gait.


    Eventually, I pulled my bike, opened the complex¡¯s entrance, then slapped my cheek as a desperate wake-up gesture. It worked, somewhat.


    Despite pondering whether my condition was accident-inducing, basking in the, luckily, dim sunlight, black liquid rose to knee level, a muddy sludge that seemed to seep into my pores.


    I gazed down at my knees, hugged by a blue rugged fabric. Raising my right leg, the motion, though sluggish, was a conclusive success.


    A hallucination, yet I climbed on my bike regardless. Perhaps the reverbing headache had grown so big that it hindered my mental strength.


    ¡®Whatever¡¯


    Describing my travel was pointless, as I forgot most of the scenery. By all luck, a parade of pale green trees and gray concrete.


    The music, blasting thought my earbuds was low compared to the banging head pains, like a bell¡¯s muted ringing.


    That didn¡¯t matter, really. What did, though, was that I managed to survive.


    ¡®Survive¡¯, a rather strong word for the incoming torture. Listening to a college lecture, while being sick, was an ordeal few would attempt.


    The reason being; it was dumb. Quite so.


    I balanced over a thin line, pondering over two choices.


    On the one hand, an unnatural heat was spreading on my skin, the light reflecting over its glistering surface, like I¡¯d ran a marathon.


    Drops of sweat dirtied my forehead, I cleaned them using the loose end of my shirt, now turned soggy.


    On the opposite side, now sitting on the last row of a spacious lecture room, bland and rugged, my will had gone too far for me to go home.


    For a good minute, I scavenged my bag, searching for my laptop.


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    Despite opening a gray and flat rectangle, whose screen switched from  black to a blinding light, the blow didn¡¯t manage to knock out my daze.


    Opposite, actually. I plunged deeper into this slump, one that shook my senses around and on themselves, until eventually turning numb.


    A loud silence, interrupted by hushed breaths. It suffocated my being.


    Then, I floated. Like my mind was dragged upwards into the celling, leaving behind an empty shell, sprawled on a wooden table.


    Time passed, an amount of no importance.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    These words pulled me back, painting the pure black world in shades of gray.


    I gazed upward at the clock. An hour had disappeared.


    A downward gaze revealed a burly middle-aged man, shrunk to a pebble¡¯s size at this height. His voice carried a half-sincere, half-annoyed kind of tone.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been sweating like crazy. Don¡¯t come if you¡¯re sick.¡±


    Only then did I realize my moist skin, whose presence was enough to accentuate all of the previous symptoms.


    The clocklike headache, at first bearable, now spun my consciousness, shook it, emptied it blank, as I pressed both hands on the sides of my skull.


    It was pure pain. I craved something, though its origin stayed foreign. Hidden deep within my mind, allegedly.


    Standing up in an unbalanced motion, sounds and smells shut down, muted, buried under the discomfort, twisting my nerves on themselves.


    I scanned the room, painted with boring shades of gray, as the taste of metal entered my mouth.


    Then, like an animal instinct, a sudden burst of lucidity, I ran towards the door downstairs.


    Many gazes fell on me, hinted with worry, fear or indifference. Bothering with them was a luxury.


    At the room¡¯s exit, straight on the right, a narrow corridor extended towards a dead end for a distance; twenty meters or so, about that range.


    I entered the bathroom, a gap somewhere in the path. In a pale white, the wall¡¯s painting blinded me for a second.


    A mirror reflected my damp and contorted face. Hushed breathes were mute to me, only the sensation of an army of crawling bugs on my skin lingered.


    There was something that I¡¯d missed or forgotten. The meaning behind this pain, whose nature cold water couldn¡¯t wash away. Now, my face looked soaked, not in sweat, but rather in the icy liquid.


    On the edges of my ears, a deafening high pitch scream made me shiver for an instant. Turning my gaze to the left, a hallucination peered at me.


    It was a girl in her twenties, blessed by dainty features. Be it her thin nose, sapphire eyes or sculpted eyebrows, they worked together to form a beautiful entity.


    Yet, she didn¡¯t exist. That, I was sure of.


    With a cool looking posture, her back against a peeled gray wall, the cropped black shirt she wore let out a tiny bit of her pale skin.


    A dreamy voice, almost a lullaby, intrigued me.


    ¡°Are you lacking something?¡±


    I fell on my knees, numb to the creak of bone colliding with the ground.


    My body felt heavy like a black hole, yet light as a feather.


    It felt as though a cog had been removed from my brain. A unique word conveyed my thoughts, lucid for a moment.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Like a fairy, the girl smiled, a perfect and ethereal kind of grin. Despite the everlasting blur of my mind, I knew the answer to her question.


    Then, nothing existed anymore. All of my senses withered away, hid deep in a corner of my soul.


    I could tell my conscience somewhere in this tangled mess; although my actions were automatic, like pulled by a hidden and all-knowing will.


    Reality broke, distorted, before eventually reforming in a slow process.


    The first sensation I recovered was heat, as my body acted like a scorching sun on my organs.


    In second came the feeling of touch. Round and foggy drops of sweat crawled across my skin, each and every inch of it.


    A smell of fresh paint filled my nostrils, together with hints of metal and rust, which wasn¡¯t of much use in discerning my environment.


    I opened my eyes, or rather, forced them open. For a few seconds, the gray light blinded my retina, until the fragmented image resumed its form.


    Ahead of me, almost stroking my face, was my flat¡¯s door. A worn-out wood covered by a fresh coat of brown paint. Fresh, but dry, nonetheless.


    How I ended up here was meaningless. Maybe my mind was tired enough to nudge this concern away.


    I wanted to sleep. I was sick, terribly so. If not, then my behavior would¡¯ve landed me a place in a mental hospital.


    With a slow gesture, I pulled my hand over to the round handle. One twist, that was what I needed.


    However, it never happened. A glimpse of another door entered my vision, whose bright red paintjob caught my interest.


    Well, that¡¯s quite a lie. I wanted a reasonable explanation for my curiosity; thus, the color came to mind. In truth, though, I never understood it.


    In slow, wavering steps, my position changed a few feet to the right. I stared at a door; a different, scarlet one.


    A feeling brew in my mind, an intuition that the poison and antidote responsible for my sickness belonged in the other side of this red limit.


    I arced my arm backwards, slammed my fist against the wood. Once, twice; each resulting in an echoing loud noise.


    ¡®It¡¯ll break at some point.¡¯


    Another sound broke the silence, this time, a meek creak. The door opened and left a crack, from which a half of a body and fluttering black hair seeped through.


    The other half emerged, a girl¡¯s. A black cropped shirt hugged her upper body, while white short covered her thighs.


    A couple of meters behind her, sitting legs crossed on a sofa, was another girl, a double, perhaps a twin.


    She had an opposite getup as her sister, which, piling up on top of my throbbing headache, confused me like nothing else would.


    I glanced back and forth between the two, until the front sister parted her lips to a sweet voice.


    ¡°Mae, he¡¯s come back.¡±


    The girl had a teasing tone, bordering on mockery, while her face raised a grin. Across my memories, one stood out to me.


    The hallucination. That was her, right? Or was I going crazy?


    While I wanted to speak, my brain was working overdrive to keep me awake; thus, nothing slid off my tongue.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± The act of peering at my face seemed to be a delight for the girl, who let out a satisfactory moan. Her lips twitched erratically, as thoughts she would begin laughing any time.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± I pieced together a coherent sentence.


    For an answer, I got a gesture; the sofa girl walked up next to her sister, flashing the same dainty smile.


    Their pale blue pair of eyes were bewitching. I lost myself.


    One of the girls hugged my neck, rested her head on my shoulder, before breathing in my ear a faint whisper.


    ¡°The ones that will make you happy.¡±


    I heard the door close and fell for the pleasure a second time.

 Chapter 3

    Since a couple of days, I¡¯ve been waking up in random positions or locations.


    Once, my limbs were knotted together in a ball; this contortion was maddening for long seconds; painful, too.


    There was a time, maybe yesterday or the morning before it, when my eyes creaked open to a scarlet red celling, whose surface peeled off a dry powder.


    It concerned me, as mine was a dull gray, tattooed deep on my pupils. This sight, including the faint smell of mint spread in the room, however, was foreign; a splendid way indeed to rewire my brain.


    As worry bit on my skin like poisonous vines, I recalled a detail, the missing puzzle piece.


    The twins, Mae and Mia, had an uncanny addiction towards mint scents of all kinds; thus, they would spray the aroma in their flat¡¯s every corner. Upon having this thought, traces of worry vanished, as a faraway memory would.


    I slept in the twins¡¯ spare room. Anxiety turned into peace of mind. The situation was a perfect as one could be; I loved them, after all.


    A freezing breeze struck my cheek, irking enough to force a sharp upward gesture from my body. By tiptoeing, I leaned closer toward an open window, placed in the center of a scarlet red wall.


    Yes, everywhere was red; they had to become accustomed at some point. I did. Or perhaps the color was personal preference. Anyhow, I found it endearing.


    My fingers tips pushed the glass until a clicking sound ensued, and the cold disappeared. I sighed in relief, then turned around in anticipation of the silk blanket, a sanctuary of warmth.


    Only when my eyes fell on the cloth did I shudder at the blunder. Tossed in three layers of uneven thickness, the blanket formed a cluster of mess.


    It was an expected, familiar outcome for my rash gestures; a mondain mistake, now enough to cause a panic attack.


    All the symptoms came rushing in, a repulsive shot of adrenaline. I spat on the immaculate floor, feeling my heart bursting and tightening at an erratic cadence.


    Like a metal pipe had broken my head, stress made me dizzy, shook my orientation sideways; a simulated car crash, tumbling down a busy highway.


    I limped ¨C crawled ¨C to the bed¡¯s edge, covered by a thin silk cover kissing the dirty ground. It couldn¡¯t happen; I had to stop it no matter the cost.


    As noises of rubbing clothes filled the room, fumbling the blanket in rough hand gestures returned it to its dainty state after two minutes of twisting and pulling the cloth apart.


    A hand on my chest, my frozen breaths stabilized, so did my hiccups. I shed an embarrassing tear, as a tiny price for saving my relationships.


    Having resolved the emergency, I glanced around the room, ogling any useful details of use, a clue into the twins¡¯ personalities, perhaps.


    All I got, however, was nothing short of a barren landscape. An empty, dust-free red world, without a trace of personality.


    There was a bed, that much was evident; a thick door made of pine wood, too. That was the extend of it, eerie and lonely.


    ¡®How weird.¡¯ was the extend of my reaction. A cute and quirky trait of the twins; this meaning backed up the uneasy atmosphere; therefore, everything was fine and well.


    After a mute creak, the door opened to a gaping hole; despite her height, Mae filled the center frame of an eye-drawing presence, as she wore a white hoodie above jet-black stockings and short.


    I got startled by her outfit change, then resumed a neutral stance upon much needed introspection; a second¡¯s worth of time.


    The sister¡¯s black hair was a pendulum, waving back and forth on her pale cheeks, nose and chin; even the eyes were a target.


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    Not in the mood for a bargain with the wind, Mae pulled a blue knot out of her pocket, clasping the dark mass in one, coherent chunk out of the neck¡¯s way.


    Her lips raised in a know-it-all smile, she spoke.


    ¡°Hey. Did you have a good sleep?¡±


    I straightened my back, loosened my facial muscles, before coughing once as a ploy to clear my husky voice.


    ¡°Hmm, good, I guess? Thanks to you.¡± While scavenging for the most effective string of words, my half-woken brain found a passing answer; or so the grin on Mae¡¯s face told me.


    A glimpse over my shoulder at the neatly folded red blanket, she nodded in satisfaction, which made me sigh in relief.


    ¡°Well?¡±, she titled her head sideways.


    ¡°Nothing. I¡¯m hungry.¡±


    Actually, that was the truth. Or a convenient excuse, I suppose.


    We walked out the room in line, more due to my sluggish gait than a subtle display of submission.


    Outside, then a sharp turn left into a narrow corridor, painted red matter-of-factly. I¡¯d memorized their flat¡¯s bland layout since my first visit.


    On both side walls, two doors, one of black steel, the other of white, puffed cotton, embellished the monochrome sight to a laughable, though discernable layer.


    The twins¡¯ rooms. I threw away my prying curiosity long ago.


    Mae held her lips sealed for the short walk; even her breaths were faint; whispers. This aloof, nonchalant behavior of hers; an undecipherable puzzle box I¡¯d yet to burst open, was an exhibit of charm; it made me fall for her.


    At the corridor¡¯s edge was the living room, a perfect circle decorated with two sofas, facing each other, and an old-fashion TV. Whereas I thought of this setup as the bare minimum for survival, the twins treated it like a luxury; or cared little, one or the other.


    In wide strokes, Mae leaned towards the kitchen, hidden in a spare room to the left. To my astonishment, they¡¯d painted it white, with stripes of red cutting though.


    ¡°The usual?¡±, she inquired with a yawn.


    ¡°Yes, please.¡±


    Three days were enough for this exchange to not feel unnatural, but rather, a warm conversation. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was the twins¡¯ overly touchy demeanor, or a side-effect of love.


    A minute passed, one where I had nothing better to do than redden my vision by glancing around. Mae¡¯s hums escaped from the kitchen into my ears, then my brain, providing me with a shot of happiness; the best of morning gifts.


    Seeing her walk out, two plate balanced on one arm, the same number of cups on the other, convinced me that it was the taste of genuine happiness.


    Mae deposited the first plate on my knees; a golden toasted bun coated with strawberry jam; alongside a glass of orange juice.


    She sat next to me with an identical position and breakfast, before taking a bite; not too big nor small. I did the same.


    A savory blend of a soft, yet crisp texture, and a sweet flavor, made for a satisfying experience; solidifying its position as my go-to breakfast.


    I let out a moan of approval, with gibberish nonsense in between my tongue and teeth.


    ¡°Is it really that good?¡± Mae grinned in pride.


    ¡°It is. Better than my usual, you see.¡± An honest reply.


    She furrowed her brows. ¡°Sounds like you are better at flattery than cooking?


    ¡°Maybe.¡±


    Something stroke my thigh, covered by a thin fabric; Mae had nudged herself closer to me. In careful and deliberate motions, she slid her fingertips across my cheek, down to my neck. It tickled.


    An intense gaze peered at my own, attempting to devour me; I let go of any resistance.


    Mae licked her lips, twice, before opening them. ¡°I love you.¡±


    I wanted to hear these words; they were a mean to confirm my delusional feelings.


    ¡°I love you too.¡±


    My answer was natural, like an evidence, but it made her frown; more acutely, holding back a laugh.


    ¡°Have you ever thought about why you did?¡±


    She pinched my skin, before letting it go. The room folded on itself like a sheet of paper, then resumed its flat state.


    I recognized this pain. A throbbing headache, the weight of the world on my spine and against my skull. My skin turned greasy from multiple layers of accumulated sweat; a disgusting smell and irking spots all over my body.


    There was nothing to be done, except praying. I lacked a core piece of my being, cluttered somewhere in reality.


    ¡°Do you need help?¡±


    Side to side, looking at me from an upward stance, were the twins. Their upper body emitted a glistering white light; I interpreted as so.


    Mia, dressed in her usual color scheme ¨C contrasting forces of black and white ¨C snapped her pinky and thumb together in an inaudible rub.


    I knew this world. A boundless field of five-petal blue flowers, dancing to a perfectly orchestrated rhythm; the wind¡¯s. Under the white sky, the twins¡¯ skin, tinted the same, blended in the foreground.


    They were naked, grinning at me, their indexes pointed towards me in mockery; a strange, yet normal occurrence.


    As Mia, followed by her sister, began to dance, a surge of bliss filled my being, like a bewitching drug. Reality twisted on itself in spirals, again, then, again, until a dozen formed a maddening mural.


    A spark, or a thunderbolt. It stroke a part of my brain, pieced together a forgotten memory.


    This exact setup; it had happened thrice in a row. I would forget about all of it, drowned by the pleasure.


    Like a genius streak of coordinated events, they enfolded in this order.


    To cleanse this pain, my fist knocked on my right neighbor, a door full of red paint.


    Then, two gorgeous girls led me inside, to a man-made heaven; after two of three loops, I suspected their identity to be closer to a goddess¡¯.


    While stuck in the sea of happiness, this realization hit me, not quite hard enough to knock me out, nor let me enjoy myself worry-free.


    My heart tightened, as it would in front of the twins, though now in another illogical meaning.


    I was sorrowful at first. Then, pleasure snuggled inside my skin and muscles, turning this awful moment into the best of my life.


    However, sadness crawled its way in. A cycle of insanity. I thought my mind was breaking ¨C an imminent death.


    Here, I chose my words poorly. Thinking of such a grim topic, whilst riding on the hurricane of joy was an eerie and impossible contradiction.


    Yet, it was happening; my emotions withered away.


    I wanted to hold on to them for longer; not a large request, a fleeting moment, instant or second.


    In the end, numbness transformed me into a doll. An average looking and stiff beige-skinned puppet.


    Everything lost their meaning, none made sense anymore. Maybe, they didn¡¯t hold any at all from the start.


    Then, when the twins finished their heavenly, dainty dance, twisting reality on a whim, the world was painted black.


    Hugging my knees in a dark room ¨C my narrow kitchen ¨C, it took me a long second to realize I¡¯d hadn¡¯t lost consciousness. Simply, there wasn¡¯t a light source in the frozen room.


    I felt grateful to be at home, to be free from my thoughts. A sleep was needed ¨C no, required; tomorrow would be morning.


    No words, nor screams, but a tear. A single one wet my cheek, slid to the ground. Once, then I¡¯d fall on the floor like a slug.


    My hand covered my mouth, from which a sound of wailing tried to escape ¨C if it did, I¡¯d shatter.


    Then, a water curtain blurred my vision, until a fog made it opaque.


    I touched the damp wooden floor. My eyes began soaking it.


    The sleepless night couldn¡¯t dry nor muffle the cries.

 Final chapter

    A deafening buzz kept ringing for a lilting ten seconds, in between intervals of a minute; one of relief.


    As my phone vibrated on the floor, it shook the room¡¯s core structure, creating a black fissure at my feet; yet, while attempting to enter my fingers into the crack, it disappeared.


    For a week, these phone calls were nonstop disturbances in my flat. College, friends ¨C though I doubted it ¨C or family, it was as though a collective decision had been made to bother me. They twisted my wits to their breaking point; it was a dazzling success.


    I snuggled my dust-filled, stained blanket over my shoulders. Its subtle warmth halted their shivering; a peaceful, lightless setting hugged me.


    My eyelids closed and crushed my thoughts. A positive thing, that was a given. The less time spent thinking, the happier I got.


    Then, when a mirage, this blurry image of the twins, materialized, or was graved on a part of my brain, I bit my nails; devoured my skin full of red spots.


    Without looking at it, I grabbed a cold metal chuck while pushing its sides. The screen lit up my face, hard shadows appeared under my nose, lips and hair.


    Now a new blind, my eyes burst open.


    I read the time out loud. Eleven, morning.


    Twice, even; it gave me enough time to do a quick subtraction; I landed on the number six.


    Six hours ago, I visited the twins, my body full of discomfort. A tiny, atrophied arm had started to grow on my forearm; the most gruesome sight of my life.


    Its five, uneven fingers twitched, like struck by a high voltage. I needed to get rid of it, for my sanity¡¯s sake; thus, I turned their flat¡¯ handle.


    This was a pattern, an absolute one. If I had an issue, I would go to the twins, however small it may have been.


    A day ago, perhaps sixteen hours back, in a nearby convenience store, the counter lady shot a haughty glance at me; or at least, that was my assumption.


    They were multiple variable at stake, though; for once, how I hadn¡¯t gone out for five days, thus explaining the noticeable gray eyebags on my greasy face, or my unkept hair; lastly, the twelve frozen dishes I presented to her.


    Now, they were all possible explanation for this glance, not considering the fact that it may have been a wrong interpretation.


    Then again, the matter remained. It annoyed me, irked my skin ¨C I almost spat at her, a young and proper looking girl.


    As I walked back to my flat, cutting my skin as a mean to shake of the discomfort, they were two doors ¨C one a brown, peeling wood, the other a smooth red.


    I chose the red one; after an hour, the twins took my worries away. When my flat¡¯s characteristic stench greeted me, however, I cried, began pulling out my hair like a madman, before passing out on the hard floor.


    Another case ¨C the last.


    When the arm started growing, to address the issue, I banged on their door ¨C now in genuine fear ¨C and a Mia of black of white opened it.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, this time?¡±, she teased, a beaming smile on her face. It was uncanny, seeing this blatant display of affection.


    I didn¡¯t answer, instead extending my forearm outwards. She took a step forward, glanced at the extra limb in a surprise, or disgust, before nodding. Her lack of reaction concerned me.


    ¡°I see.¡±


    Mia walked back inside, like a clue for me to go in ¨C I followed her belatedly.


    The flat was the same, a single round room and a narrow corridor; all painted red. It was boring; now.


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    On the couch was Mae, knees crossed, a perfect back posture. As she caught a glimpse of me, she waved at me without a word, grinning.


    A soft voice came from the kitchen ¨C Mia¡¯s. ¡°Do you want a snack?¡±


    I guess it was indeed around midnight. I wasn¡¯t hungry, though.


    ¡°No.¡±


    The only concern ¨C right now ¨C was to heal, cleanse, or purify me; anything along these terms.


    Waiting for the twins, a reflex kicked in; I sat on the opposite couch like it was my own.


    My gesture triggered a noise, not one I expected.


    ¡°Hello.¡±, she said with a bow.


    This uninspired word ¨C ¡®she¡¯ ¨C was the only way to call her.


    On my left, I caught the picture of a girl, whose brown hair was tied in a ponytail, clothed in loose trousers and shirt, both blue. Her squinting eyes were, too.


    The color popped out amidst the usual red, more so than the twins¡¯ black and white. I peered at the girl; there was a mole on the right side of her right eye.


    ¡°Hello?¡±, she repeated her question, this time with a hint of puzzlement.


    ¡°Ah, yes. Hello.¡± My dry tone didn¡¯t seem to bother her much, seeing how she resumed a laid-back, slouched posture.


    The same applied for me; another presence in this otherwise bland environment couldn¡¯t be considered a good nor bad situation ¨C I didn¡¯t care, actually.


    My stance on the matter changed when the girl called out to me.


    ¡°Are you here for the twins, too?¡±


    I nodded, then gave out my name, before asking for her own.


    She told me. While fidgeting her fingers on themselves, she continued.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± She grew impatient. ¡°What¡¯s up with you?¡±


    A couple of meaningless glances passed, until I folded the sleeve covering my forearm up. The girl leaned closer with interest; she chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s bad. When did you get this?¡±


    I frowned, not much in anger than of concern for her mental state. ¡°You don¡¯t seem surprised.¡±


    ¡°People have gotten much worse. Look.¡± My eyes darted towards the girl¡¯s neck, on which multiple layers of make-up hid a faint red mark. I tried to touch it, but she slammed my arm downwards.


    ¡°I had a leg come out of here. Just imagine my shock, waking up with this on my pillow.¡±


    In a faint laugh, the girl confirmed my worries ¨C this woman wasn¡¯t okay. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, the twins healed me. I¡¯m all fine now.¡±


    She smiled at me, her blinding white teeth thrown at me; it appeared like an act of madness.


    ¡°Why are you here, then?¡±, I asked with caution.


    ¡°Well, two things¡± Her fingers made a ¡®V¡¯ sign ¨C counting two.


    The girl furrowed her brows. ¡°My boss fired me.¡±


    ¡®That¡¯s a fair point.¡¯


    ¡°And, well, I like it.¡±


    ¡°¡­You like it?¡±


    A glint of frenzy shone in her pupils; I backed off as a safety measure.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it amazing, the world of blue flowers? And that dance!¡± The girl pinched her lips in excitement. Some blood leaked on the rose tint. ¡°It a logical reason to visit them, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Maybe, you¡¯re right.¡± I lied. My feelings were stuck in a ball, down my throat ¨C like they would make me chock anytime.


    Straight ahead, on the opposite couch, Mae raised her blue gaze, full of mischief.


    ¡°You two.¡± She clasped her hands together. ¡°Should you do the dance for the both of you?¡±


    No, that was the last thing I wanted; if it wasn¡¯t for my perverse curiosity.


    As me and the girl answered ¡®okay¡¯ in one, united voice, the air began smelling like honey; our bodies felt light as a feather ¨C we floated upside-down.


    In this state of euphoria that I knew all too well, Mia crouched in front of us, with both of her hands stroking our heads.


    My body laid flat on a blue field, pointing at the white dome overhead. I rolled on my left; five-petal navy flowers. On my right; the same, except for the girl¡¯s dreamy face.


    The twins were here, in this landscape, at their designated distance ¨C a line between warmth and cold.


    What previously made me hopeful, now stirred up anxiety, and nothing else.


    In a few seconds, I¡¯ll be the least happy man on earth.


    There was, meanwhile, a human-sized limb on my forearm, plummeting around my wrist and crushing the flowers.


    In a few seconds, it would disappear. Then, I¡¯ll, at least, be happier than before.


    Maybe. I hoped so.


    A dance began. Their dainty moves, an uninterrupted flow of grace, emphasized the twins¡¯ beauty.


    The field morphed, broke all laws of our worlds.


    I glanced at the girl¡¯s side; a crystal-clear sea of jade and water, bustling with life and soul. Mia¡¯s song and voice were an air-tight puzzle of musical genius ¨C a cluster of overbearing emotions.


    Each peak I took, mine changed. At first, a boundless beach of scorching sand; a white landscape under a white sky ¨C euphoria filled me.


    Then, everything withered away. The sky collapsed on my shoulders, the sand slipped out of my touch; it all stopped existing.


    A bottomless fall remained at the center. There was no smells, nor sounds, nor a color.


    I began falling. The girl¡¯s idyllic side began crumbling too; though only from my perspective. Thus, nothing remained; I was stuck with my thoughts.


    None of them made sense. A word, an emotions ¨C they stopped.


    It wasn¡¯t painful; not because I felt the opposite; but rather, because I felt nothing at all.


    At the bottom, my body plunged into a colorless spring. A mere contact made my skin shimmer ¨C the only lights in this lightless world.


    Flames surrounded me ¨C they burnt my mind and body to ash; then, the ash blended into the water.


    I woke up on my bed, drenched in sweat, tired.


    My eyes only saw red, like paint had been splattered over them. I put my hands over my head, hugging it; before they slid down on the wet skin of my face.


    The world was heavy; it pulled me towards the ground. A feeling of emptiness ran thought my being ¨C I was miserable.


    While my forearm had been healed, everything else was the opposite.


    After a few hours of waiting for a positive thought ¨C a short moment of happiness ¨C, interrupted by periodic buzzing, I grabbed my phone with a cold hand, then read out loud the time.


    Eleven.


    My body moved in a predefined path, repeated countless time.


    I stood in front of a red door. Once an intriguing sight, turned into a bland color.


    Usually, turning the doorknob was useless, because one of the twins would open the door beforehand ¨C a sixth sense of some kind.


    This time, however, no matter how much time passed, there was no reaction. The silence in the corridor was deafening to me.


    No options remained; I tried opening the door.


    To my surprise, it worked.


    A narrow entrance, leading to a round room. Facing against each other were two red leather couches; and against a nearby wall, a red plastic TV.


    It was all the same, yet empty and lightless.


    I laid on the empty couch, causing my eyelids to close. The color parted way to a comforting black.


    The sounds in the room were muffled; there weren¡¯t any apart from my breath.


    Little by little, like broken glass shards, my mind became steady.


    As though the past never happened, a wave of optimism surged within me.


    Anything was a generator for happiness ¨C it brought me warmth, the thought of moving my body around.


    If never seeing the twins again meant switching flats, I¡¯d gladly do so.


    Then, a knock.


    It echoed inside of my head. Enough times that it couldn¡¯t be a hallucination.


    The sound grew louder, like a gunshot to my ears, from the unlocked front door.


    I got up, took a step toward it, before going back; until the noise grew too deafening to ignore.


    After a minute holding the doorknob, I pulled it.


    Nothing, a blank space. The knocks had stopped too.


    I wanted to scream, run, anything; a pride-infused activity.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    A feminine voice made me turn around. It was a woman, dressed in a black shirt, white shorts, and a mass of silky black hair; each brand fluttering. 3


    She had an alluring, sensual smile, one that I knew well.


    Behind her was a lit-up room, painted in a thorough red color.


    On a couch, a girl ¨C the striking double of the woman ¨C, was reading a book with a bored demeanor. As we crossed gazes, it flipped on itself, turning into a smile; again, the exact same.


    This was a dream.


    ¡°You scared us, walking into our flat like this¡­¡±


    I peered at the woman with hollow eyes. My mind was free of thoughts.


    She gave me a touch on my cheek, with warmth in her pale eyes.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look okay.¡±


    Her hand was frozen, but didn¡¯t feel cold nonetheless.


    With a head tilt, she asked.


    ¡°Do you need something?¡±


    Then, I said it; the words that led me to happiness.


    ¡°Can you dance for me?¡±