doublevision.
 part 23 // peanut43998
            I stared back at her sweaty face, losing all of my apetite. I wiped my forehead, noticing that I had started sweating. Maybe it was the pressure that was just put upon me from all of these silently staring faces. I noticed that I was looking down at the mush on my plate. I looked back up at the girl, remembering that she'd asked me a question.
            "I-it really doesn't matter." I looked down at the mush, which really did just look like a pile of mud. I wouldn't be surprised if an earth worm just crawled out of it. It wouldn't have been the worst thing thats happened in the last couple of days.
            "Guurl, it does matter if you in jail now." She picked something out of her teeth with her fat tongue. "Tell us." I raised my head and everyone was still silent. I heard whispers, and I wondered what they were about. 
             I swallowed long and hard. "I killed my twin sister." I blurted out before I could stop myself. Some jaws dropped, some hands clapped, and some mouths hooted. Okay, not the reaction I was expecting. 
             "Damn, gurl. You really have done a crime." The girl sitting next to me had her eyes glued onto me. I didn't know if that was supposed to be taken in a good way, or a bad way. How did other murderers take a comment like that? I just nodded my head and looked, once again, at my tray of mud.
              I found myself remembering the time when our family were at the beach in the ocean, seperated by the space in between us. Brittany was really mad at me, for a reason that I couldn't remember. She took a huge handful of wet sand and chucked it at my face before I could move my short legs through the strong waves. I'd started crying, and you just snickered in my face. When I washed it off and looked back at my mother, she'd just looked down and read her book.
              "Hey." The chick next to me nudged my arm with her elbow. "You okay?"
               I nodded and stood up. I threw my sad excuse for food into the garbage and put the tray where it was supposed to go. Crossing my arms over my chest, I went back to my jail cell. As I sat down on the bed, my stomach growled. I felt like I had to throw up, but if I did, nothing would come out. I couldn't remember the last time something actually went in my mouth that had filled me up enough for me not to be hungry. 
               A tear fell down my cheek. I wondered what it was filled with. Regret? Sadness? Anger? Embarassment? I definitely regretted killing you. How could someone be so sick minded?! Who kills their own twin?
               Who kills their own twin just to be like them? I couldn't have even tried to be like her without taking her place? I could have done everything that I did without murdering her, now that I think about it. I could have straightened my hair a little longer, or went out and got some clothes. I could have talked to a few more people than the janitor or the lunch lady. Why hadn't I? Why hadn't I at least tried? It would have done me some good. I wouldn't be hated by everyone in my town, and I sure wouldn't be in jail. Maybe I'd at least be loved by my parents. I thought back to when my mom visited me.

             "I thought Ashley was the only one with problems, but I guess you were too." she said, talking to herself more than to me.
            "Wait wh--" 
            "You were my last shred of hope for our family and you destroyed that too."
            "Mom--"
            "I guess I deserve it…" her voice trailed off.
            I didn't even know what was going on. I felt lightheaded.
            "Mom, please stop. You love Ashley. She's your perfect daughter. You love her so much, and you treat her so much better than you do me." there were tears streaming down my eyes at this point.
            My mother put two fingers to her forehead and sighed.
            "Did you ever try and think of why I always acted so nice towards her?" my mother sneered, annoyed.
            I was speechless.
            "You know what." my mom said, getting up and pushing her chair back towards the table, "I can't -- I just can't do this. Goodbye."
            "Wait mom!" I cried out, but she was already gone.

             What did she even mean by that? I'd always thought she was so loved. By everyone. But now that I was actually in her shoes for a couple of days, I'd realized that she wasn't loved. Not by her friends, not by Danny... not by hardly anyone. 
             Kind of like me.