My brother did this weird thing with turtles. All animals actually. But mostly turtles. He seemed to have a fondness for them. He would catch them and talk to them, sometimes for hours. I guess catch isn’t really the right word. He’d just sit down at the park or by the river and they’d seem to find him. Just coming right up to him and sitting next to him. Sometimes he’d have conversations with them for hours. I know it’s crazy but sometimes I feel like I heard them reply.
I know I know I sound insane. And I probably am. I miss him so much. I can’t believe he’s been gone almost a year. It still hurts, no matter how many therapists I’ve been sent to, no matter how many times i've tried to get over it. I know it’s crazy and I know I’M crazy but sometimes I still hear him. It used to just be when I was almost asleep or in my dreams but the talks have been getting more and more frequent. And even sometimes in the light of day. All of the doctors and even the other patients in here with me think I’m crazy. You know it’s bad when a crazy person thinks you’re crazy.
We don’t talk about much but when we do talk I can’t help but feel like he’s in the room with me. I miss my brother so much. He even told me why and how he had disappeared that day. He said he had found a diamond bracelet in the back of his car. He didn’t know where it came from or whose it was so he thought he should take it to the police. After all it wasn’t his and he was always a kind soul who wouldn’t dream of taking something that wasn’t his. So that’s exactly what he had intended to do. He said that he never made it to the police station. He was grabbed and pulled into an alley not far from his car. He said there were at least five bulking men that had grabbed him and one man in a tux.
Apparently the man had thought he had stolen the bracelet. It had belonged to the mans wife and it had gone missing earlier that day. They had no idea that it wasn’t my brother, rather someone had planted it in my brothers car for whatever reason. The men had beaten my poor brother nearly to death. Left him bloody and alone in the alley. I’ll never forget the voicemail he left me in his last moments. I was so stupid to not pick up my phone. I had only been on a stupid date with a guy I hadn’t even liked but I thought it was impolite to pick up a call during a date, so I had let it go to voicemail. If I had known it was him or what was happening I of course would’ve picked up.
That weekend in Duluth was the worst night of my life. It will forever haunt me and be burned into my memory. It doesn’t matter that my brother tells me he’s not upset, that he only misses me, he doesn’t care that I didn’t pick up the phone, he knows there’s nothing I could’ve done. But I care. I think that surely I could’ve done SOMETHING surely I could’ve helped. So I haven’t been getting better. So they keep me in here. My parents still visit every day but I don't talk to hardly anyone but my brother nowadays. It’s hard for them, I can see but they wouldn’t understand the pain of losing a twin. They wouldn’t understand the pain yet relief of hearing your dead twin brother every day.
It hurts, yes but it’s more than worth it just to hear his voice. More than worth the dull ache in my chest. I haven’t seen him yet, but he says that I will soon. He says it’s hard to come visit me at all but he says he’s trying hard to show up and he misses me dearly. It’s the only thing that keeps me going, really. It’s the only thing that gets me out of bed, it’s the only thing that gets me to eat, because he always says he wants me safe and healthy. I miss him so much but there’s nothing I can do now. I’m just glad I get to talk to him, even though everyone thinks I’m crazy.
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