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I am the evil twin. I had always thought that, to be "evil," you had to be really bad. Kill people, rob banks, kick homeless people, kidnap babies. Felony shit. But, apparently, that's not true. I guess it’s much, much easier to be evil than I thought. In fact, it looks like evil is simply the opposite of good. It's not fair. It shouldn't be that easy to fall into such a stupid fucking trap. What kind of God makes it so easy to be “evil,” and then demands that we be good? But that's just how it is, I guess. Nothing we can do to change it. It just has to be accepted, just like so many things, it seems.

My sister, Holly, was always the one who made her bed in the morning. I never did. There were times where she would make mine, too, just to keep me from getting scolded or lectured. Did I ever appreciate it? Of course not. My only thought was, "Awesome. Free labor."

In school, she was a straight A student. She came home every day and did her homework immediately before anything else. I barely did any homework at all. I couldn't be bothered. Hell, seeing me in class was a rarity after a while. You'd be far more likely to catch me in the "forbidden stairwell," smoking whatever my friends handed to me.

Come to think of it, she picked better friends than I did, too. My friends were the smokers, the losers, the drop outs. Hers were the 4-H club, the girl scouts, her church group. Maybe that's where I went wrong. Maybe if I had joined that damn church group....

Before now, I never would have thought that anything I did was, "evil." Stupid, short-sighted, self-destructive, and frustrating for my parents and teachers, yes. All of that, certainly. But evil? I didn't think most people would have called me that. But I was wrong. We've all been horribly wrong.


One night, as I lay awake in my bed looking out at the cold moonlight, a dark shadow stretched itself across my window, blocking my sight. I can't tell you why, but I wasn't scared. No, that wouldn't come until much later. As I continued to watch the black mass that hovered outside my window, it seemed to press itself against the pane. Before I knew it, it was in the room with me, floating directly above me. There, it began to collect itself into the shape of a human. The muscles and features became so clearly defined that I could just make out the being's closed eyelids before it opened them wide and blinding light assaulted my vision. I felt it descend onto me and wrap me in its arms.

"You're coming with me, now," it said in the deepest voice I'd ever heard. To call it simply a voice seems wrong. It was solitary, but choral. Very near, but far away. Softer than a whisper, and louder than the most horrifying scream. It shook me to my very core.

The next thing I remember is standing in a large hall lined with gleaming pillars. In between each set of pillars stood a stationary figure, frozen in position and eerily still. They came in all shapes, sizes, colors, ethnicities, genders. As far as my eye could see, there seemed to be no end to the place. I began to wander among the pillars, observing the motionless citizens of this place. Most of them were people I'd never seen before.

That is, until one in particular caught my eye. It was a little girl. She couldn't have been anymore than two years old. A mop of blonde hair framed her cherubic face. She wore a spotless pink dress and a teddy bear dangled from one of her hands. I knew who she was. I'd seen her on the news and in videos. She'd been missing for years.

I began to speak to no one in particular. "Isn't that---"

"Yes." I whirled around, seeing no one, but knowing I wasn't alone. “She is among the chosen,” said the voice. It was the voice I'd heard in my bedroom. Once again, it sent a shock wave right through me. The memory of what I'd seen and felt came rushing back, bringing with it terror and confusion.

"Who are you?" I demanded. "Where am I?"

"Be calm, child," the voice said. "There has been an error."

This was the last thing I expected to hear. "What are you talking about? Why can't I see you?"

"Child," said the voice calmly, "tell me your name."

Under normal circumstances, I would have refused this request, giving instead a long string of colorful curses, but in that moment, I felt compelled to obey. "Shira Lenore Goldman," I said, meekly.

For a moment, all was silent. Then, the voice came again. "I must take you back," it said. "It is not you we want."

"Want?" I asked. "For what? What is this?"

Before I could receive an answer, my vision went black once more. I felt a pair of arms wrap around me as they did before. This time, keeping my wits about me for as long as I could, I thought I caught the distinct sound of flapping wings.

The next morning, I was shaken awake by my mother. "Shira," she said. "Do you know where Holly is?"

"Holly?" I repeated groggily, the things I'd seen and felt still fresh in my brain.

My mother's face came into focus, a mask of worry and dread. "I can't find your sister," she said. "She's not in her room!"

At this point, the police have conducted searches and interviewed "persons of interest," but I can tell you for a fact that Holly will never be found. That was the mistake. He took me by accident, but it was her he wanted all along. Holly. The good twin.

The people he takes are the lucky ones. They'll be safe, no matter what comes for us. And something is coming. I can promise you that.

Before he left me and I slipped out of consciousness, I was able to ask one question. "Who are you?" I said.

He flashed those blinding eyes at me one last time and said the words that will echo in my brain forever. "My name is Rapture."

Written by Jdeschene
Content is available under CC BY-SA