I’ve been away a long time.
Samuel hasn’t changed much. Still the same smile, only this one seems to be hiding something behind it. Still shares my green eyes and brown curly hair. Sam’s neck arches out of his torso at an angle so sharp, the kid could probably be in some sort of geometry problem.
Although if he were to ever end up in a textbook, arithmetic wouldn’t be the kind.
Alongside where Samuel’s neck and torso meet, my other brother Daniel’s neck begins. Daniel’s eyes are a similar shade of green, but his hair falls pin straight down to his backside. His face is held up in a much straighter fashion; he often cocks his head to the side to be more like Sam.
Daniel rarely smiled; only when Samuel cracked a joke did he even let out the slightest of snickers.
I remember when I didn’t know what the two of them even looked like. When they were just two talking heads forever taunting me from behind.
I remember the television vans pulling up and mom shooing them away before finally agreeing to do an interview. I remember mom breaking down on national television; Samuel still smiling, Dan still cocking his head to the side. Me, just staring.
No one- I mean no one- could possibly understand what it is like to be some sort of grotesque specimen. We were the first of our kind, triplets literally attached at the hip. Everyone wanted to see it for themselves; everybody had something to say about the supernatural siblings next door.
I’ve been away a long time.
I glance over at the space between my two brothers’ skulls. A wound, almost healed, yet undoubtedly everlasting. A memory.
Mom is at the office. I didn’t tell her I was coming; the drive from the city to here is no walk in the park, but I felt the timing was right.
“How have you been, boys?”
Samuel glances at my arm. Daniel looks down at my prosthetic leg. Sam cracks a joke about my now being a robot, and Daniel howls with glee.
I walk around the house some more. They were still my brothers; they’d have to understand right? They’d have to still love me the way I still love them.
Something loud. Glass, shattered. I discover the source of the sound, the mirror mom had taken from Gran’s house after she and Pop had passed.
Towering over the shattered memory is them. My brothers. I still recognize them; I often picture their faces just to prime my memory.
The boys bend their knees in perfect unison, something that took years of practice.
Samuel grabs a shard of glass; Daniel reaches to do the same but hesitates as Samuel expresses his disapproval.
Samuel hurls the glass at me; launching him and Daniel both towards me as well. I feel a phantom pain, and I reach for my right arm to detect a wound, only to remember I never had- and never will- a right arm at all.
Voices. How long have they been there?
I look down. I see two individual people.
Most others barely see one.
All they see is a unit- a celestial body just occupying space until it withers away.
I’m not mad or scared, not yet at least. Sam always had a penchant for violence; I remember him trying to force my head out of the way so he could get a better view of the television screen whenever Natural Born Killers came on. It was his favorite film.
But Samuel’s no Mickey, and Daniel’s no Mallory. If they wanted me dead, they had their reason.
The shard of glass is now shards. They sit by the window sill. Light pours into the darkly lit house, reflecting off the little remnants and blinding me.
I sense my brothers lurking nearer.
I run for the basement, stumble down the stairs, and land on the cold concrete floor. The surface comforts me. I remember sleeping in the basement for the first few years of my life.
The boys emerge atop the staircase. They look mad, but even more so, they look hurt. I begin to think about how my life story is better suited that of a superhero than that of a stockbroker. I mentally draw a comic version of myself.
My archenemy? The Twins.
They walk down the steps deliberately. Another step. And another. And another. Daniel now holds the glass, Samuel smiling confidently.
The glass continues to shine. Then the voices return, only louder this time.
Lights flash and the jarring sounds of camera shutters fill my aching brain.
Chikit, chikit.
I sense Daniel jostling back and forth, Samuel still as can be. The room remains saturated with yellows and whites. Their brightness strains my eyes, but I keep them open. The pain is important to me. This life, it is so absurd. It requires hurt. My brothers, they’ve grown complacent. Samuel soaks in the artificial sun and Daniel follows suit, albeit uncomfortably. They have accepted this life, but I will continue to challenge it.
The voices throw more lights at me, asking me to back down. I open my eyes wider. The basement floor never hurt like this. For a brief moment, I fear I might go blind. Would that be so bad, I wonder?
My vision subsides and I shut my eyes real tight. Still, I have memorized my surroundings. What other choice do I have?
I keep my eyes closed now. This is how I win.
I’d been away a long time.
But I come back.
The voices.
“Do you ever think about life without your brothers? Life on your own?”
The question triggers visions of city me. Of stockbroker me. Of superhero me.
I say nothing.
The lights blind me. But I know my brothers are behind me.
And that is where they’ll always be.