At the End of the World

"Where were you when the world ended?"

To a room full of strangers, it was better to lie. Let them believe we were heroes battling through a hoard with one goal in mind—to find each other. Honesty could kill us in this new world. We needed people to believe we were the only ones who could save them.

From the moment we entered the safe house, Danika observed each person we met carefully. Her stormy, pale blue eyes took in the weapon stocks, their body language, and anything she could get a read on physically. Words were poison, so she had no reason to listen to them plead their case to us. That was my role.

Sometimes, I would catch her and Sacha sharing a look. A solemn shake of his midnight curls was the only answer she needed to carry on the charade.

We could trust them.

Wandering through the halls behind them, I tried not to feel left out. The bond they shared was deeper than that of mere twins. They were more than that. It was impenetrable. Not even I could break through it. But I would always be their younger sister. They wouldn't forget me. Would they?

As if on cue, Sacha turned around. He offered me a mischievous wink and his stupidest smirk. I rolled my eyes. His laughter rang out in the corridor as he faced away.

Without missing a beat, Danika nudged a leather-clad arm into his side.

"Ow!" he wailed. Clutching his stomach, he threw a glare her way.

She glared back, sticking her tongue out before apologising to our escort. Danika never looked back at me.

It shouldn't have surprised me, but the pang of hurt I felt was never lost on me. Why couldn't she forgive me?

Memories flashed through my mind from when we were children, long before they were locked away. Then, I thought about the visits to the mental hospital long before the world was torn apart. I was lucky Sacha forgave me. Danika was the embodiment of the anger I should feel at my actions and words.

A long hallway flashed in front of me, shrouded in bright, blinding white light. It illuminated the clinical white and cream walls. Each step I took echoed as I made my way to the one-way mirror glass. I stared into the room, watching as Danika scribbled manically on the paper strewn around her on the floor.

"How long has she been like this?" I wonder aloud, unaware of anyone else around me.

Doctor Carter takes a step closer. "Years. We have collections beginning from when she was fifteen if you would like to see them." She readjusted her round glasses upon her nose, unaware of the little jump I made at hearing her voice.

Hand on my heart, I glanced at some of the drawings on the floor. They were crude, much like a child's attempt at drawing. However, I could make out who she was drawing.

I shook my head, gulping as I watched my sister splatter the drawing in red crayon. "I doubt they would grant me any clarity," I whispered, my voice feeling coarse against my throat.

She nodded. "Shall we proceed?" Not waiting for my reply, she opened the door and allowed me into the room. "Danika, your sister is here to see you."

Legs crossed in her white pyjama garments, she didn't acknowledge us. In fact, she never looked up. She was too engrossed in her drawings.

"Danika?" Doctor Carter asked.

From beneath the midnight curtains of greasy, curly hair, Danika glared at the doctor. "Go away." It couldn't have been above a whisper, yet the two words were enough to send shivers down my spine.

"Now, now—"

Shooting up from her seat on the floor, Danika screamed, "Go away!"

Not daring to argue with her, Doctor Carter left the room as though hell was on her heels. I turned to leave too, not wanting to upset my sister more.

"You may stay," Danika's soft voice sang into the quiet of the room. The gentleness of it startled me.

Turning back to her, she sat back down on the floor with a crayon in her hand. She mulled over her drawings quietly. It was like the episode never happened.

"Why is it you only visit us when you want to get something in return?" she asked gently. She didn't look up.

I rubbed my arms whilst daring a glance at the disturbing pictures on the floor. "How is Sacha?" I looked around, expecting him to be hiding in a corner.

On previous visits, he was also in the room with her. It was strange seeing Danika on her own and left with something to keep her occupied. They were hardly ever apart.

With a huff, Danika began scribbling on another piece of paper. I could vaguely make out the outline of our parents before she blotched them with a red crayon. I made a point of having my gaze fixed on her slender form on the ground.

"Oh, yes, he's fine," Danika's voice dripped with dark sarcasm. "He is totally not locked up in one of the isolation rooms and being starved. I mean, why would they do that?"

I rolled my eyes. "Dani, the only way either of you are going to get out of here is by behaving yourselves."

Her head snapped up. Her steely gaze held me in place as she slowly stood. The crayon dropped from her skeletal fingers, her bones creaking and cracking until she showed off her full height—a foot taller than me. As her head tilted to the side, the curtain slipped away to reveal the sharpness of her bone structure. There was a dark beauty there, but it was lost on me. All I could see was the deranged lunatic underneath.

"You don't understand," she snarled as her feet dragged against the linoleum floor. "You never have and you never will because you aren't like us. You're normal!"

Danika's voice was like venom. Each word was dripping with a poison foreign to me. It couldn't be healed by apologies or understanding. Those were only baby steps to fully being able to recover from what we both had done to each other.

I retreated, hanging by the door. This visit was turning into a car crash, and I couldn't look away from the wreck.

"You don't know anything!" she screamed.

I slammed the door shut on the memory, waking up to find the safe house ignited in flames. 

A hand clamped on my shoulder as Danika muttered beside me, "We couldn't trust them."

Word Count = 1082