Final Draft Rachel Moore Nov. 15, 2010 688 Words
Delilah I remember the nightmares. In them I ran, and I am never alive to find out what chases me. Tossing and turning, there is never a way out. Screeches and claws, the darkness pulls me in, closer and closer, it swallows me. “Rose! Wake up! Itʼs just a nightmare, Rosie. Shhh.” Delilah holds me as I cry in her arms, and she singsme to sleep. Two years since the accident and she ignores me, as if I was only in her imagination. There is no understanding when she, my twin sister, does not even acknowledge my existence. No one can see me, not even Delilah, even when I knock something over and even when I stand right in front of her. Delilah sometimes whispers my name, but she never hears my reply. I do not exist in her world and with that, every waking moment and every dreaming sleep the nightmare will always plague me. I watch her as Delilah tries to do her homework, sitting criss-cross on her double bed with a math textbook on her lap. She sits quietly and gazes out the window. I follow her lead and trace the windowsill with my eyes, staring into the twinkling night sky. Autumn came and summer left, the moonlight hit our oak tree, emphasizing the hint of red transforming on the leaves. My eyes wander fromthe window and I turn to sit across from her. Reaching out, I touch her hand gently. I feel her warm skin, alive and well, and I clutch her hand tighter. Her body tenses and she squints at the hand I hold. She scans her blue room; everything was in place, from the pens on her desk to the arrangement of her multi-color pillows. My touch made her skin turn into ice, cold and rigid, and as if sheʼs seen a ghost, her face goes pale and her infinite eyes turn blank. “Tell me,” I whisper, but the wind carries my voice away. I try again;
“Tell me”. To catch her wandering eyes was like moving heaven and earth, but they finally stop and set on a painting I drew for her that decorate the wall behind me. Silence. Waves in the form of tears run down her ocean eyes. “What is it, Delilah? Tell me!” I say, raising my voice. I canʼt hear my own voice. The computer hums and the racing of her heartbeat accompany the beating of her clock. Tick, tick, tick. Like a bomb, we were all about to go off; an explosion ignites from a stem of hidden emotions. Delilah catches her breathand keeps her eyes away from me. “Rose, youʼre dead.” Delilah whispers with the breath she can muster, her voice was soft and regretful. It seems she has a lot to say to me, but she didn't know how. Delilah gasps for breath as I tried to find mine. My hand stays holding hers, as I try to get it through my head. Long suppressed memories came running back in flashes, making me weaker. I grip her hand for support and I look into her blue eyes, a reflection of my own, like a life savor. I remember the accident. Blinking dashboard, the radio playing music from the 90ʼs, and my dad booming with his loud laughter. For a moment, he looks away to check on us. He didnʼt realize that an ongoing truck came toward us. Dad swerves our blue sedan, honking of cars filled the midnight air. Wheels skidonto the pavement and lights flash as we roll off the road. We flip and land upside down onto the forest floor. The ambulance, the blood, the lights… The light. How it consumes me into a dazing sleep. I never woke, and Delilah did. One moment. One moment and everything changed. From the cause to the effect, I canʼt get from one place to the other – Iʼm caught in between. So, let the world stop spinning and let the stars dim their lights because without Delilah, nothing has meaning.It was I who perished, and she who stayed.