1
Headlights flashed, spinning wildly and careening towards a tree… the drunk in the other car morphed into a clown, and cackled at him… an explosion of flame and the smell of gasoline…
Mike shot bolt upright in bed, screaming and slapping at his chest and legs in a panic, trying to extinguish the flames that weren’t there. Wondering why he was beating the shit out of himself, he stopped slapping at the imaginary flames and began to rub his eyes.
“Another damn nightmare,” said the voice in his head. He was having the bad dreams still, less than when his parents had just been killed, but he still wondered when they would end. “Maybe never,” he said aloud, looking at himself in the mirror that sat on his desk across the room.
“Maybe you should jerk off.” The voice wasn’t usually very helpful.
Mike smacked himself on the cheek, partly to punish the voice, but also partly to wake up. He glanced at the clock, only 5:30. Grumbling, he started to rise and reached over to flip on the lamp. The door to his room creaked open.
Emma, his twin, poked her head in and looked at her brother sympathetically. She cast a sad, knowing glance at him.
“How does she always know?” the voice asked.
“You okay Mike?” she asked, tiptoeing quietly into his room and sitting down next to him. “Another nightmare?”
Mike lowered his head, not wanting to concern her. She was like him in so many ways, but was also vastly different. Sometimes it was hard to believe they were even related, others, easy to see that they were twins. The voice in his head started singing that stupid Donnie and Marie song.
Halloween was usually a fun time, especially when they were kids. They’d go as Raggedy Ann and Andy, or dressed as M&M’s, which actually became a nickname that stuck with the two, unfortunately. Somehow she always knew when he was upset, though. His other three sisters passed it off as “twin intuition”, but it was still pretty creepy. He could always feel when she was upset as well, though, and it was hard to explain how.
“Mike?”
He glanced up at her. She was staring at him with that slightly goofy concerned look glued to her face. He’d always thought she…
“Hello?? Earth to Mike…”
“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine. Another nightmare,” he confirmed, finally shaken from his trance.
“The same? Mom and Dad?” she asked, knowing the answer.
Mike nodded. She put her arms around her brother and laid her head on his shoulder. “Was the clown there too?”
Mike chuckled, and nodded.
“What’s that about? Fear of clowns mixed in with a bad memory of losing our parents? Did a clown fondle you at the circus?” she asked, looking at him with an all-too-seriously concerned looked face.
Mike laughed out loud, and pushed her off of him. She always knew how to make him feel better.
She continued, making her voice husky, “Did the naughty old clown man make you touch his big red clown nose?” and moved to her brother’s side again.
He cackled out loud at that and pushed her away a bit so he could get at her with his hands. “No it was something more like this,” he said, tickling her ribs mercilessly. She rolled back, kicking her feet and cackling.
“Ack, stop it, stop it. Mike, stop it PLEASE! Ow, stop it you fucker. Quit! QUIT!” He always knew right where to tickle. They were twins, of course he knew; it was right where he was ticklish.
“She’s got boobs,” the voice pointed out.
Mike stopped, letting Em catch her breath. He wondered if there was an operation he could get to block out the voice, which seemed intent on pointing out the obvious. He probably needed therapy. Seeing her start to rise, he quickly moved his hand back into tickling position.
“STOP,” she said loudly, a wide smile on her face. She smacked him on the arm and stood to head back to her room.
“Back to bed?” he inquired.
“Now that I’ve been tickled and woken up?” she asked rhetorically, and flipped him the bird as she left the room and shut the door behind her. “Fucker,” he heard her say from the hallway.
He lay back down on his pillow, arms under his head, and stared up at his ceiling. He’d always known he had an evil voice in his head, but he wasn’t a schizophrenic or anything. At least, he didn’t think he was. Does a crazy person know they are crazy? It wasn’t an evil voice anyway, just kind of a perverted voice. His expression changed as he realized, that if he was without realizing it, he could be one ‘knock, knock’ joke away from slicing up all four of his sisters. He shook his head clear, ‘you think too much’, he told himself and chuckled, realizing he could never do that. They’d always been there for him when he needed them. Most of them, he amended. His thoughts drifted back to Emma, the yin to his yang.
“Wang,” said the voice, causing Mike to roll his eyes. He was always very protective of his sister, not that she’d ever needed it. She was the same height as he, though not nearly as muscular, and of course she was pretty. She’d had boyfriends in the past, but not many. None really hung around too long, probably because she and her brother were so damn close. He’d never thought of himself as intimidating, but figured that he could be pretty scary, if the need ever arose.
They had the same nose, though his had been broken several times. Same emerald green eyes, same hair, except hers was longer. Long and brown, curly near the ends. Yeah, she was definitely very pretty.
“Pretty Hot,” the voice added.
Mike ignored it. Being twins meant they had always been close. They had just started their first year at college together, the same one of course. They had most of the same classes, ever the twins. It didn’t bother him much. He’d never gotten tired of having her around. She was like his right hand, he decided.
“And you know what you use your right hand for,”
“Shut up,” Mike said out loud. He did think she was pretty, though. All of his sisters were.
Mike couldn’t think of Emma in that way, though, not seriously. It was like, thinking of himself that way. Mike briefly wondered what he’d look like as a woman. The dick tucking scene in Silence of the Lambs popped into Mike’s head, uncontrollably.
“I’m going to vomit.”Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.
His thoughts shifted to one of his other sisters, Beth. He chuckled. Sweet, clueless Beth. He and Emma were blessed with brains and decent looks. Beth still had both, but it was different than them. Beth wasn’t stupid, far from it in fact. She was the smartest one of their family. She was incredibly smart, almost scary smart. She’d been valedictorian when she graduated high school, and was near the top of her class at the university. She didn’t really concentrate on her looks, though. A pity really.
She wore glasses, not thick, but it still relegated her to the dork side of the social scene. There was no denying that Beth could be a stunner though. She was incredibly gorgeous, or least he’d always thought so. When she took off her glasses or dressed up for a social engagement, an awards banquet or something usually, she could literally take your breath away. She’d had large breasts ever since he could remember, and was, in fact, larger than her three sisters. She was short but not too short, thin but not anorexic. She was a perfectly cute dork. A dork-et really. She was a dork-et with a nice rack. She always seemed to have a little pack of nerds following her at school.
Her own little nerd herd, so to speak. It was mostly boys in the nerd herd, with the occasional nerd-et sprinkled in for good measure. He wondered if she’d ever had a boyfriend, though he’d be shocked to find out if she’d ever been intimate with anyone. The main problem Beth had was that she was too smart. She had no common sense.
She could figure out how to solve a complicated problem the family had, but didn’t know how to talk to anyone outside the family. She also seemed to be perilously unaware of how magnificent her breasts were. She always wore a bra, though he was sure it was only to keep them out of her way. She was the quietest of the sisters, as well, often letting the other three run their conversations. She was blonde, so that didn’t help her when she did something ridiculous. So you couldn’t call her dumb, because you could give her a calculus problem and she’d complete it and use it to solve the entire next chapter. She was just…
“A social retard.”
“She is not,” he barked mentally. I mean it’s not like anyone had to remind her that girls don’t fart in public, or that pants were an integral part of getting dressed. ‘Don’t elaborate on that last part, damn you,’ Mike quickly thought.
“Mmmmm…”
Mike shook his head and his thoughts landed on Dannica.
“Bitch”
“Knock it off,” he thought at the voice. Mike wondered what his sisters would think if they knew about his internal dialogue. He wondered if Emma had the same voice. Did hers sound as perverted as his? Did it have an accent? Mike always thought his sounded British for some stupid reason, even though he’d always lived in Texas. Did everyone have voices? Did his sisters? He knew Beth’s voice would be probably be a disembodied version of Einstein, floating around in her head. If Danni had a voice in her head, it was constantly stuck on bitch mode, or tease maybe.
“Or sexkitten.”