It irked her how a man and woman could call themselves her parents but have no intention of taking in her brother, her twin who was now alone in the streets. All because he was more interested in art than arithmetic.
She sat at her desk with an open calculus book in front of her, but she had no desire to study. She only stared out the window before her, watching the wind blow the snow around in all directions. It was a blizzard, and while she was safe and warm in her room, her only living family member was somewhere in that freezing cold. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she thought about him huddling under blankets in an attempt to evade the cold.
“No,” she said aloud, “I won’t let them keep us from each other.”
She put on two pairs of pants, two pairs of thermal socks, an extra shirt, and finally her coat, but as she climbed out her window, she realized it was so cold that even that was not enough as the winds bit at her face and hands.
She had spotted her homeless twin once before he had disappeared again. It was far from “home,” as she was supposed to call it, but it was the only lead she had.
After a half hour of running, she had to stop to catch her breath, but with the cold, it was difficult. She found herself stumbling over her own feet, and she pitched forward into the snow. Some slipped her coat, and she reached her hands into her coat—or tried to. Her hands trembled so much that she kept missing the opening.
She gave up, and opted to climb back to her feet. But she kept slipping back into the snow.
She settled into the snow, curling her trembling limbs into a fetal position. Her teeth clacked so much she thought they would crack, but she could never get them to settle. Tears slipped from her eyes as she thought about her brother.
He had been tall the last time she had seen him—so much taller than her. His hair was curly and auburn just like hers, but her had the kindest eyes and the warmest smile out of everyone she had ever met—something no one could say about her, especially since the day the two of them had been separated during that tragic fire at the orphanage.
Her “parents” had told her they were doing her a favor by giving her expensive clothes and a comfortable bed, but they would never understand that none of those had meant a thing to her without her dear brother there to enjoy his own bed and clothes. It was such a cold and empty house without him. Just like the street felt now.
She wondered if perhaps he was feeling the same as she was now, and for the first time, she found herself praying to meet him in the afterlife.
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