Chapter One

I HATE MIRRORS. (Especially since I have a human mirror following me around for 18 years of my life.) Only four years left till college - thank God - then I won’t have to see myself in another person’s body every day of my life. Waking up to a person standing outside your door holding an invisible mirror up to your face, one that will never go away till we are both dead.
Having a twin is not everything it is made up to be. You have to deal with your own parents not knowing who you are. Your friends come up to you asking,
“Hey do you know where Luke is?” and you just stand there thinking,
I am Luke...
Somedays it is not even funny anymore. People think it’s a great joke to call us by the other twins name, well maybe they don't know what it’s like, maybe they need to experience what it is to see your own face on someone elses moving, breathing body.
Maybe I just need to kill Jordan Larson.

Chapter Two

My bed these days doesn't fit - fit like it used to - my feet spill over the fabric edge like they want to plummet to their death, but my legs won’t let that happen. They need my feet to keep them up during the day.
“Hey Luke, wake up!” the voice pierces my latched bedroom door.
“I’ll have you know,” (slapping my brother in the face with my intense sarcasm,) “ I have awake much longer than you have.” No response. Now I can finally get myself prepared for school in peace. Quickly, I throw on my usual popular teenage boy get up- all name brands, from head to toe.
Sleep deprived and unanimated Jordan sits at our victorian style dining chewing on a freshly baked bagel. We rarely have the time to sit down and eat breakfast, we are always so rushed to get out the door. Usually because it’s either Jordan or myself who gets up late, sometimes a combination of both of us. It’s just an endless cycle that is not good for either of us.
  Attempting to lift a steaming bagel from the sweltering jaws of our toaster, my mom is hunched over the counter. Once she has it on to a plate she hands it over to me. I’ve already taken a seat due to fact that we have a whole 10 minutes to eat. All thats going on is small talk, she asks us how we slept, both of us say we slept well, even though we both don’t really know how to respond. 
I feel like my mom hit the mute button during our whole car ride to school. No one has even mumbled a single word since we entered the vehicle. The car suddenly feels like a paint shaker on wheels. Rough pavement, I guess.  No…
“Flat tire,” my mom exhales. “Great both of you will be late today.”
As usual.
She quickly hops out of the car, slumping down the back left tire is located. She stays there long enough for me to develop boredom, sneaking occasional glances at Jordan now and then.
“You know, it’s really weird that you keep looking at me,” he snickers.
“I’ve been noticing lately what things are different about us.” I seem to have more freckles than he does, and his hair has more highlights than mine does.
He is as motionless as a brick placed in wall not to be disturbed till demolition day. He is probably thinking about what I said to him. All of a sudden my mother has the door wide open, ordering my brother and I to help her change the tire.
Changing a tire isn’t too hard, but it’s not easy. You first have to raise the car up so there is no longer any massive pressure from the weight of the car making it nearly impossible to remove the tire. Next on the list is to loosen the nuts, which are wound up on to short metal rods given the name bolts.  Nuts and bolts guys, every mechanic's dream.
I have a dream, a dream to unscrew nuts from bolts on a daily basis.
I don’t know how someone could love doing something like this everyday of their life. I find absolutely no satisfaction in doing so.

Chapter Three

It reeks of cheap perfume and cologne. Riverside High School, funny name since there are no rivers within a fifty mile radius. Kids of every type and clique line the hallways, running in every direction. I guess I’m not late after all. I observe my lock spin as it falls on the numbers which make up my combination.

1501

What happened to being late… I really thought I would be.

My teacher Mr. Johnson never seems to teach my class anything. All we do is sit in class for an hour filling out review packets for tests we can basically cheat on- he lets us use the review packets for the test- I think it’s great. I’ve never got a grade lower than a B on one of his tests. My mom likes that part a lot. However math is a totally different situation entirely. I have failed practically every single test there is to take in my math class. It’s like math goes in one ear and out the other.

The rules of being a freshmen in high school are that everyone either thinks you're a little toy they can mess around with, like no one is watching or they just ignore our existence. I’ve been pushed around every day since I started high school. I can't even count how many times I've been crammed inside a locker or stuffed in a trash can.
The older kids hate us underclassmen for some reason (Don’t they know they were once freshmen and they know what it’s like… So why would they do it.) It just makes be build up all this anger inside, like water boiling till it expands so much that it overflows the pot.

If you think I’m not paying attention in class, then you are correct. Listening to this guy talk is terrible, it’s like he never stops. He sounds as if he has never felt happiness. He looks and sounds completely lifeless everyday. I don’t even know what’s wrong with this guy. Can’t they find someone else to teach this class?
I guess not or they would have already.

Chapter Four

This day is going by a lot faster than my liking. Each of my classes feel like half the time they actually are. I’m already at the last class of the day. Gym.
“Alright, we are gonna start out with ten minutes of jogging.” His voice echoes off of every near by wall, surrounding me in his words. Repeating on an endless loop.

Ten minutes Ten minutes Ten minutes
Shortness of breath is one thing I do not look forward to in gym class. The feeling of having to force breaths in, instead of my body doing it naturally. The gym starts spinning all of a sudden. People turn into mushy blobs of vacant colors, and I lose complete sense of where I am in the room. All I see are lights flashing and spinning and blobs and nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Luke?

Luke, are you okay?

Wake up.
Everything is fine.
No, nothing is fine. I’m on the floor with my whole class bent over staring at me. Heat rushes to my cheeks as my friend Jack helps me up. He’s a kind-hearted skater. He used to think he could teach me to skate till I first stepped on a skateboard and fell straight to the ground. Fortunately, I did not break anything, otherwise I’d be holding a grudge. No grudge here, just a good friend.
“You okay, Luke?” Jack pats me on the back, helping me over to the set of bleachers nearby. Sitting down, catching my breath I contemplate a response.
No, Im not okay... I can’t really think straight. I tried to come up with a funny answer as I usually do. But I couldn’t think of one.
“You probably hit your head pretty hard then.” He better not mention the skateboarding…” just like when you,” don’t say it, don’t say it, ”fell on your a-- when you first tried skateboarding.” He just had to mention skateboard… This is why we are friends. We know how to take memories and make them funny. We both don’t mean harm. We just enjoy reliving the funny parts of life.
We sit on very uncomfortable wood, talk about completely random topics which make us laugh about our stupid life choices. The screeching bell rings, filling my ears with unwanted sound. Schools out!

Chapter Five

Tired and aching I take my first steps into my front door a little past 4:00pm. Late in my book. I shuffle into my room, setting my book bag at the foot of my bed. Timber! Yells my body as it tumbles to the comfort of my warm, fluffy, welcoming bed which is still too small for me. All my worries and feelings disappear for a minute, all I feel is absolute comfort surrounding every piece of my body, releasing tension in every joint, every crevice. Agitation is the last thing on my mind. Jordan decides is the perfect time to annoy me.
“Hey butt face, come here.” He yells through my door. I’m so glad I locked it.
“”You know when you say ‘butt face’ your talking to someone who has the same face as you right? So you just called yourself a butt face.” I love being the smart one. He doesn’t know how to respond, this is so hilarious. I can’t stop laughing after I start, I can just picture his face. Mostly cause it’s the same as mine, and I know what mine looks like when I can’t think of something to say.
The doors comes crashing down, his foot, still suspended in mid air, as if he is frozen in ice.  His face is as red as the devil in his fiery kingdom below. My heart races out of control, beating throughout my whole body. He’s getting closer, I feel his rage pulsating at me like waves of sound, but this time it’s waves of hate. I see a peak of shimmering light behind him. A knife? Yes a knife he’s coming at me with a knife? Im on my feet running to the opposite side of the room grabbing my chair and hurling it across the room. The force of the chair throws him to the hard unwelcoming floor.
He lays there motionless.
In panic I run downstairs to my mom and dad yelling Help as loud as I can. I see them sitting at our table, discussing something a lot less important than this.
“What happened?” He asks. My father is much more direct now than ever.
“He came at me with a knife,” I pant like a dog after a run, “ Jordan tried to kill me.” Both of their faces turn from concerned to shocked and scared. My dad is the first to get up, he’s much fast than me mom and I. He’s at Jordans side when I enter the room.
“Is he dead?” He asks, I can tell he’s shaking, by his tone.
“No, I threw a chair at him,” My mom shoots a glare at me, “What?! Self defense.” I mumble. She gives me this look, of understanding with some shock still left over from what I told them. My dad already has the chair off of him, he then takes the knife out of my brothers hand, throwing it towards the garbage. Only missing, plunging itself deep into the flesh and skin of the wooden wall nearby. Suddenly it’s like my whole day just flashed before my eyes.
I see myself waking up, the noiseless car ride, flat tire, cheap perfume, stupid history class, blurry vision, falling, comfort, knife.
Now my mirror has shattered.

The End