I rushed into the bathroom, my heart pounding in my chest. A message was on my screen, bold and clear.
"Time is ticking, Harley." And following the messages were two attachments. Jesus, I didn't even want to open it. Whatever was inside that attachment, I knew was going to break me apart. It wasn't anything good, yet I clicked on it.
There were attached photos of my twin brother, who was still left in a coma for years now. Our father had refused to give up on him, maybe because he was a boy, the only son he had. And me on the other side, despite looking like the boy, despite being identical to him, was nothing but a bastard's child, something worthless that he didn't care about.
I would never understand, I would never come to understand what the difference was, why we were treated differently, no, why I was and I'm treated differently.
