Dare To Live

• Renee Ware, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2015

Before he left, I was myself. I was happy, carefree and mischievous.
But now, without him… I’m nothing.
He was my best friend. My brother. My twin. My other half. Since the day we were born, we’ve never left each other’s side, until now. We were Felix and Alex Redstone; the notorious identical twins. No one could tell us apart, no one could separate us; it was just the two of us.
But I’m just Felix now, and I’m dying because he’s gone. Without him, I’m nothing and I can’t go on. I’m the other half of a broken heart; I’m hollow and empty, fragile and broken, with jagged edges and sharp points. Slowly crumbling under the weight of my own misery.
I spend most of my days contemplating my miserable existence. All I want is to end my pain and misery, but I know I can’t do it. I’m a coward. I was always the weaker twin. I was always more careful, more cautious, more fearful. He would always help me though. He would always hold my hand and tell me that there was nothing to be afraid of; that everything would be okay.
I bet that if he were here with me, I would have the courage to do it. But, of course, if he were here with me, I wouldn’t have to do it.
Two weeks ago, I lost my other half. And not a single minute goes by that I don’t miss him. I miss him so much; words cannot even begin to explain.
I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much to continue. Maybe I should kill myself. Maybe the pain would go away then. But I doubt that would solve anything. I mean, sure, it might end my own pain but the consequences horrify me. All I can imagine is our family and friends. They’d be mourning two lives instead of one. Two twins instead of one, and losing two souls instead of one is so much worse. I can’t bear to think of all the misery I would cause everyone just because I was too selfish to think about anyone but myself.
Besides, suicide doesn’t solve anything. It’s only a permanent end to a temporary problem. The pain can’t last forever. It won’t hurt like this forever. I know I’ll never get over his death, but at least I know that, wherever he is, he’ll be proud that I chose to make the most of my life; even if he will no longer be by my side.
And who knows, maybe one day, when I’m old and ready, I’ll pass away peacefully in my sleep, just like he did, and maybe, just maybe, if I’m lucky, he’ll be there when I wake up again looking just like he did when we were young, and we’ll be together again. Just like before.
Actually, now that I think about it, maybe living without him might not be so bad.