No Air in Space

By Madeline James

The idyllic family life is a concept foreign to identical twins, Nikki and Taylin Radakovich. With a coolly-sadistic father as secretive as he is abusive, turning 18 for them represents more than just becoming fledgling adults. It signifies the freedom to escape the hell theyd been forced to call home. However, until time allows them their wish, theyre determined to make it through in the only way they know how, continuing a bond society deems inappropriate and one thats set to become the target of their small world as well as the root of their emotional upheaval.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491832912

Madeline James

Madeline was born in Essen, Germany and lives in Birch Bay, Washington. As a 20 year old writer, she still has much to experience, but doesnt plan on letting that slow her down. In 2009, she won the gold medal for a play she wrote, based on No Air in Space, in the NAACPs national competition in New York. She has several books underway, including the sequel to No Air in Space. When writers block rears its obstinate head, she enjoys taking walks along the beach with her `velcro dog and as with everyone nowadays, she can be easily found on Facebook.

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© 2013 Madeline James. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 11/072017

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3292-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3293-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3291-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013919999

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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This book is

dedicated to my father. Without his fiery pep talks, unconditional support and unshakable belief in his daughter’s ability, she would have been something small and sad.

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CONTENTS

Preface

The Approaching End Of An April No Different

The Middle Of A June Not Easily Forgotten

Summer Heat From A July Of Lies

And So An August Began Unnoticed

October’s Twist Of Fate

October 11Th

Acknowledgements

PREFACE

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Finish what you started, human. – Kamajii, Spirited Away

If you’re taking the time to read this, then I thank you, for I used to be quite guilty of blowing right passed them. This novel was written by me at the near-end age of 12, finished just a year later. What kind of child sits around immersed in such a lonely activity like writing when there are girls to play with and boys to chase? Well, I was stuck on an island in the southeast panhandle of Alaska. It wasn’t where I was from or what I was used to. There was no mall, no movie theater, no fast food, no distractions. I was introverted and as an outsider, never truly fit in with the other kids. Books were my world and I had always admired the authors for being able to paint such incredible worlds in my head with their words. I wanted to do the same.

The kids in my grade seemed generally cheerful. All they had ever known was island life and while others planned sleepovers, I was too attracted to the bowels of reality; the places where people didn’t want to look—the places children weren’t supposed to know were there. I contemplated the plights of people who perhaps didn’t have the means to be cheerful and how it seemed that in my eyes, there were things that just weren’t talked about as if the likelihood of them didn’t exist. Only I knew they did. My father was a psychologist and though I never had access to his files, I had free reign over the books and along with my routine trips to the adult section of the library (where the books were usually bigger), I immersed myself with the DSM-IV-TR. The reality I was aware of was not the one I saw being acknowledged.

So I wrote something that I thought would open eyes. A story where children weren’t happy; a story where children needed help and understanding, only to have learned the hard way, that they needed to provide it themselves. This story isn’t real, but somewhere, elements, traces, are bound to be. It was the first book I wanted published—to show what a little girl was capable of, what she had rolling around in her head.

And for eight years, it sat restlessly in a file folder because of the extensive editing it needed; it boasted 1000+ pages and an unhealthy aversion to the use of pronouns. As a teenager, I simply didn’t have the time, patience, or self-esteem to deal with it. However, I’m outgrowing that stage, so I present to you the first doorway of the tender novel soul my passion created. Of course, a novel soul which has received a makeover in grammar, an upgrade in vocabulary and a needed condensing of well-meant ramblings (no, dear child, the burglar who only shows up once does not need a twenty-page backstory), but its scenes, its point of view, its voice, have remained the same. All leftover mistakes are my own; I’m my own worst editor.

That being said, it is most definitely a work of fiction and all places, businesses, and incidents are the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

THE APPROACHING END OF AN APRIL NO DIFFERENT

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Nikki drew in his lanky form, wrapping yellow-splotched arms around black pajama-clad legs. A broken sigh slipped past his lips and he rested a cheek against his knees, black and chestnut strands of hair falling into the way of his amber eyes. His mind buzzed with a certain numbness, idly thumbing through a list of activities that were possibly in store for him today. The figure in the bed across from him was still asleep, mouth partially open, snores continuous and quiet; several white sheets lay crumpled around a tan waist. Maybe he would succumb to a bout of riveting catatonic wall-gazing. Perhaps he would be faced with another striving-for-excellence endurance test. Those were always a favorite. He continued to watch his brother’s chest rise and fall slowly, the motion lulling his eyes to close. Or maybe it would be nothing. Nothing at all.

With curtains pushed aside, the morning sun peeked unhindered through the window, generously shining its rays onto the bed. Taylin wrinkled his face and rolled onto his side, grudgingly accepting the fact that sleep was now a thing of the past. He cracked his eyes open, slightly startled at the sight of his upright twin. You stalker, came his croaky mumble. Don’t be a creep so early in the morning. His younger brother raised his head, throwing him a lazy wounded look.

Like I don’t have anything better to do.

Taylin grinned, his arms disappearing beneath his pillow in a stretch. You don’t. He unleashed a monster yawn and shimmied over, pushing wavy mats of golden blond hair from his face. More than welcome to come over if you’re trying sleep. The invitation was immediately accepted as Nikki slid a leg over the side of his bed and crossed to his in one stride, settling in and promptly turning his back to him. Taylin reached out a hand, calloused fingers stroking through the gently-tangled mess of raven hair. At the touch, his twin turned around and instantly hid his face from the bright light.

Shit sun.

Taylin grinned. I know, said the same thing. His brother lifted his face from the pillow, eyes narrowed dully.

Bologna. The only thing that came out of your mouth was an insult. His light scowl didn’t fade at the tap on his nose.

I’ll make up for it, Taylin vowed and rolled off the bed. He shuffled his way to the window, stepping over piles of clothes and books, wincing at the crack of a CD case; that it wasn’t his, was only a brief and fleeting halfhearted hope. With the curtains drawn, the lack of natural light bathed the small cluttered room in a gloomy pseudo-darkness. A dresser with badly-hinged drawers and a plastic-lamented desk that served as a makeshift shelf lined one wall, while the beds and night tables bordered the one across. The room once had a spacious walk-in closet, though previous owners had decided it would better serve as a bathroom. In their close quarters, it was the only tidy area.

He glanced at Nikki, who’d turned onto his stomach, eyes closed once more. Brown locks of hair, still vibrant with a soft sheen from its recent coloring, framed his ashen face. A brief flurry of concern left him uneasy only for a few heartbeats before he clambered slowly back onto the mattress, wanting to prolong whatever he had to face for the day a little longer. Out of habit, he slung his arm over his twin’s back, the crook of his elbow fitting over his side like a puzzle piece. His eyes hadn’t been closed for a second before a deep breath caused them to flutter open again.

Nikki’s face remained still, though he spotted glistening moisture clinging to black lashes. He gently wiped at it with his thumb, amber eyes opening at the touch; the pain and melancholic confusion residing in them nothing new. The benign banter that had taken place mere minutes ago seemed an ancient memory from childhood. Come here, he murmured, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. His brother gave an apologetic smile, moving closer to press his forehead to his collarbone.

It never felt right when his brother cried. As the oldest, he was supposed to be the protector, but life seemed to take an immense pleasure in throwing it back in his face. Everything he did only made it worse. Shoulders shook silently and Taylin tightened his hold, smoothing down his hair and pressing lips to the top of his head. Hey c’mon, stop… He lowered his gaze, realizing he had spoken without thinking. If his twin couldn’t cry within his arms, where could he? It was bad enough that he knew in the moments where he was needed the most, Nikki was terrified, suffering, and utterly alone. God, no, ok I take that back. Fuck. Cry. I’m here.

It was a quiet spell of relief and Nikki reveled in the makeshift peace, trying to swallow the rest of the shame away. Crying never helped anything and yet, he was irritatingly prone to it. His cheek was tapped gently, but he ignored the attempt at eye contact, choosing to stare over his brother’s shoulder.

Hey, look at me. It’s fine…you’re alright.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… His gaze was brought back as a chaste kiss was pressed near his lips and for a moment, the edges of brutal clarity were soothed, blurred, and bearable. Hesitating, Nikki nuzzled forward, nipping at the two lip rings piercing the left side of his twin’s lip, the innermost speckled with tiny indentations from restless teeth.

He moved cautiously, attune to the slightest reluctance. He was aware that what they shared wasn’t supposed to be right—their father had told them many times and for a while, he knew they had felt it within themselves. But it was their way of comforting themselves when everything around them caused uncertainty and fear. A way to distract themselves from the miserable existence that was their life; a way of filling in the gaping void with whatever semblance of love they could manage. He let himself be pushed back, looking up to find Taylin already staring at him. He offered a smile, noting it only seemed to darken the emotion in his twin’s eyes. A deliberate squeeze on his arm awoke a dull familiar pain.

Won’t you ever hate me?

Nikki looked away, wiggling to nestle into a more comfortable spot. How could I?

The last plate set on the table with the syrup bottle placed in the middle, Ivan gave his thumb a quick absentminded lick to rid it of the sticky substance. Two incriminating black and white high-resolution photos still lay near the edge and he directed one closer. The snapshot caught Taylin in a turn, almond eyes with a subtle pharaohesque slant narrowed in what seemed to be concentration or irritation—the chaotic backdrop of the subway terminal undoubtedly the cause of either emotion. It was taken on a date where the boys’ house restriction had not yet been lifted. He rubbed a hand over the blond stubble across his cheeks and pushed the photo back. He wouldn’t bring it up now; not when he had news to tell them.

Another relocation was in order, one he was only too pleased to accommodate. Granted it would take them into the newly-renovated tourist-trap county, Dusty Springs, but anything was guaranteed to be better than the shithole they were required to live in now. He sat down, twisting the absence of a wedding band that had ceased to exist for eleven years. She’d been the cause of the rapidity of his disintegrating restraint, but he knew better than to blame her. As he saw it, he was only going down one road. The pace wasn’t important.

With a glance at the pancakes, he shoved up from the table, the old chair scratching back against the wood. The breakfast would certainly catch them off guard. His sons weren’t exactly spoiled, but this lifestyle he’d forced them to adopt had integrated into their moods. For the past year, they’d been in a semi-permanent state of moping lethargy.

Jogging up the splintered stairs, he paused at the twins’ door, the moment’s debate of courtesy knocking disregarded. He opened the door, staring blankly as his wintry-blue eyes adjusted to the obscure dimness. He impatiently flipped on the light switch, eyes immediately hardening, mouth firming into a grim and grave line.

Whether it was a soft-spoken curse that fell from Nikki’s lips or some kind of plea as he locked eyes with his twin, Ivan knew Taylin wouldn’t interfere. The consequences were a way of clipping his claws and Nikki knew it too. Hanging his head, Nikki closed his eyes and crumpled atop his brother, face hidden against the side of his neck. An arm wrapped lightly around him.

It was a cool outrage that filled the familiar caverns of his veins, a calm and deadly toxin, needling his blood with a slow-burning adrenaline. He strode over to his son, reaching down to roughly grab the back of his neck like one would a cowering disobedient dog. "Do you need another fucking lesson?" he spat, easily yanking the slender-weight teenager into the gap between the beds. Nikki yelped in pain as his head cracked soundly against the metal frame, his cry causing Taylin to scramble up, only to be shoved back down. A growl left his throat.

"You fucking whore, you disgusting piece of filth! Coming onto your brother, your twin, you twisted little shit—trying to fuck him won’t get you anywhere. God, stop crying, I barely touched you. What even are you? Whatever it is, it seems your mother spotted it right away."

"That’s not true!" Nikki’s attempt to sit up ended in a slump and a wince. Catching his father’s hardening glare, he turned away and covered his face with shaking hands.

"And you Taylin, I expected better of you. Pride yourself on being the oldest, why not step it up a notch and be smarter too? You think you can go into the world like that? You think this is normal? Ivan shook his head with a pitying grimace, relaxing the tension in his forearm. You’re sadly mistaken. Get dressed, breakfast is on the table. And when you’re finished, clean this room up. It’s disgusting." An eyebrow raised at the quiet laugh and he watched Nikki stand up, zeroing in on the slight movements that told him he didn’t quite dare to take a step forward. But there was bubbling anger breaking through the film of glassy fear in his eyes.

"Well dad, you wanna tell me how you exactly waltzed ‘into the world’? You think people think what you do is—"

Shut your mouth while I’m still giving you the chance, Ivan interrupted sternly. He allowed a grin’s shadow to surface. I’ve got the time. I can keep you quiet all day. The train of effect was slow and amusing as his son resulted to glowering, but as the words sunk in and imagination—or memory—began to play, there was a quiver in his lip he tried to bite down. His front crumbled, instantly provoking a reaction from his twin.

Ivan quickly stepped to the side, blocking Taylin’s access. Sit down! he barked. Don’t feel sorry for this miserable— he cut off sharply, a sudden pain pulsing from the back of his head. He ignored Taylin’s audacity, using barely-reined fury to smack Nikki across the face. He relaxed his hand. That turn out how you planned, sport? he asked quietly. It didn’t bother him in the slightest; claws did grow back, after all. He allowed Taylin to shove past him, watching how he caught his brother.

"I’ll kill you, Taylin promised tearfully, seething. I don’t care. I really will. And I’ll get away with it too. I’ll kill you, just you wait."

Ivan narrowed his eyes at the threat, pointedly wiping at the blood streaked along his hand. Come downstairs when you’re finished, he responded, turning around. Both of you.

The door shut with a muted click. Taylin hung his head, lowering his twin to the floor, pulling him onto his lap, hating having to see how his brother struggled with the disorientation he was currently overwhelmed with. "See, damn it. Fuck. I’m so useless…I…I can’t do shit—it all gets turned against me, against you. Jesus Christ, what was I thinking? He swallowed and looked down, pressing his thumb to his bleeding lip. I’m sorry." He cradled his face, but again, his twin chose not to look at him, though unlike before, it seemed an unconscious effort. Like the flicker flame of resistance had drained and his eyes were empty. When he blinked, pupils dilating, Taylin found himself just the slightest relieved.

Don’t be sorry. It’s all fucked up anyway. So don’t be sorry. It’s not like there’s anything you can do.

Although he knew it hadn’t been meant that way, he couldn’t hear it any other way. In the way that suggested his brother had lost faith in him and he realized it was a struggle to keep tears back. Because honestly how could anyone blame him? Don’t say that, he mumbled. "There is something I can do."

Nikki offered a reassuring smile, finally glancing up, tilting his head curiously at the tears beginning to leak from his twin’s eyes; the movement sparked a throb at the back of his head. He gave a small hum, reaching up to wipe away the moisture. "What’s this? So you can cry," he teased gently.

Shut up, came the mutter and he was squeezed against his chest. You’re important to me.

Oh, that’s nice to know. You’re important to me too. Nikki giggled at the reprimanding pinch he received. The arms around him loosened and with the self-conscious throat clear shattering the recovering normality, Nikki already knew what was coming next.

…We should head downstairs now.

There wasn’t a ‘should’; they had no choice. There had only been one instance before where they hadn’t been fast enough. Yeah ok, lemme just get ready, he said quietly. The arms cradling him pushed against him as he got to his feet, making his way to the bathroom. A brown belt snaking from the loops of a pair of jeans caught his foot, causing him to stumble, his vision suddenly assaulted with flashing dots. His first course of action would be to take something for the unfurling monster-shaped headache.

Don’t take forever.

Nikki closed the door, grabbing the counter for support. There’s always the lovely leaky bathroom right down the hall, he called out, closing his eyes against the pain.

Taylin made a face, scratching his head. Yeah, I don’t feel like dealing with piss water. I’ll just wait then, he replied, not making the effort to be heard. The wooden beads hanging at the end of the two thin braids behind his ear clinked together as he once more mussed through his disheveled hair, shuffling over to the dresser. Sticking with the loose jeans he had on, he indiscriminately chose an undershirt and slipped a plain brown hoodie on, shoving up the long sleeves.

He sat back on the bed, rubbing his face in an attempt to soothe rattled nerves. Nothing made him feel lower than having to watch, but that silent admittance only served to provide more guilt as a mocking voice, sounding suspiciously like his father, asked would he rather it happen when he wasn’t. Because that happened anyway. But it’d been a foolish move to punch their father; he might as well have smacked his brother himself.

The faucet shut off and the door opened, instantly attracting the attention of his eyes. Nikki flashed him an easygoing smile and Taylin soaked it in. Genetics told them they were identical twins and beneath their shells, they were. But besides their difference in height, they could hardly be mistaken for each other. He knew they were rather androgynous and while he tried to hide it the best he could under messy hair and oil-stained calloused hands, his brother didn’t mind accentuating it. His eyes were framed with dark eyeliner and his hair, just as wont to wave as his, showed the sleek shine of being straightened, the longest layers almost reaching his shoulders. Nikki looked down, a slight blush coloring his pale face. You done checking me out yet? he asked playfully, to which Taylin only mustered up a grin.

The grin didn’t reach his heart and it died the moment his twin pulled off his nightshirt, exposing his riddled back and the six-inch ridged scar that curved down his side like a claw of mottled purple. The thing could never heal properly, each festering infection leaving it one bigger mess than before. The shirt was thrown onto the bed and Nikki rummaged through the drawers, happily pulling out a black shirt. Despite already knowing, Taylin refused to let his eyes linger long enough on the burn down his lower back to make out what it read. How am I supposed to protect you? Nikki.

Yes dear. He turned around, a shadow of a smile visible at the corners of his mouth. …What’s wrong?

Taylin stared at the growing red on his brother’s lower lip. Um, maybe we should…stay apart for a while, you know? He didn’t have to explain why; they both knew why. But whether his twin would go along with it was purely up to him. He received innocent and confused blinks.

Huh, why? I don’t get it. Nikki picked through the random debris on the dresser, knocking away the ceramic little pipe, and tossed two hemp cuffs at him; he slipped them on absently.

Just promise me, alright?

Promise you what? To avoid you—or rather, be ok with being avoided? Why? You think I magically won’t get beaten?

Taylin closed his eyes, wincing. That’s not what I’m saying. Listen, I just think it’d be better—

Is it because of this? Nikki pointed to his lip. Or my head? Taylin, don’t worry about it. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and promptly walked away. What’s a few more bruises, seriously.

Seriously? Taylin repeated to himself, incredulity stealing a breath and making his next inhale involuntarily deeper. You shouldn’t be used to getting beat.

Swirling the remnants of black coffee around in his mug, Ivan listened to the hushed squabbling of his sons at the top of the stairs without trying too hard to make out what they were saying. Several thumps later and Taylin came into view, one hand bunching the bottom of his sweater and pulling out a chair with the other. Where’s your brother? He took the last bitter sip, watching the lanky teenager hold out his hand at the foot of the stairs, silently cajoling the younger to come down.

Nikki finally emerged, murmuring something about a ‘snake charmer’ before taking the seat his brother had pulled out and staring pointedly at the table, suspicion knitting his eyebrows when he saw the pancakes. The other chair screeched horribly as Taylin shamelessly dragged it further from him and twisted it around to sit astride, folding his arms along the back, one leg bouncing restlessly. Ivan let it slide.

Listen, I apologize for this morning. I was caught off guard…again. I lost it and I shouldn’t have. I forgot how this all might affect you, he began, perhaps a bit too tonelessly. Nikki, hitting you was wrong and what I said… There’s a point I want to make and I need you both to agree with me that it’s a valid point. What you guys do or might continue to do isn’t right. Incest—

Taylin visibly stiffened. Jesus Christ, don’t go any further, he groaned from the cradle of his hands.

I wouldn’t have to if there was nothing to talk about.

Chewing the remnants of black nail polish off his fingernails, Nikki shook his head agitatedly. There really isn’t it. We— But he stopped because one look at Taylin told him he was already done and mortified. You, of all people, want to talk about incest? A stab of pain shot through his hand when his finger slipped too far into his mouth as his teeth came down. Can we go now? They had heard this all before; Ivan would apologize, they would ignore it and it would happen all over again. The fear he had instilled in them when they were little prevented them from breaking the cycle. It governed their lives, a harrowing shadow of boundaries they couldn’t ever cross. Ivan looked at him and sighed. The phone rang and he went to get it.

Radakovich. Nikki waited to hear if his father would start speaking Russian, but he just stood there with an impassive face as he listened. Not that it’d mattered if he did, neither him nor his brother would understand; phonetically parroting was as far as their skills went. A few silent moments and he waved them upstairs. No, the delivery is scheduled to arrive tomorrow.

Safe in their room, Taylin flopped onto the nearest bed, hearing a bothered groan from his brother as he crawled onto the same one. Lifting his head, he glanced at the alarm clock, the time jolting a memory loose.

Hey, I gotta go now. Forgot I was supposed to meet Kenny at the arcade. Wanna come? We’re going clubbing later. Probably gonna smoke a bit too, if you suddenly decide that’s your thing. Wouldn’t be bad.

Nikki shook his head, winding his hands beneath the cool pillow, closing his eyes. That sounds horrible. A kiss was pressed to his temple and he childishly wished it could’ve taken the pain away. It pisses me off…all that hypocritical bullshit. Why does he even bother? Who’s he doing the show for? He gritted his teeth and rubbed his forehead.

Maybe I should stay? Taylin offered quietly, picking at the woven cuff around his wrist.

The reluctance was easy for Nikki to hear. Go, I’ll just be sleeping anyway.

The bed sprang up, a light squeeze to his leg. Eating might help. Don’t wait for me. The door closed gently.

It was the steady rhythm of dull pain that finally grew too agonizing to sleep through that forced his eyes to open. Unable to make anything out other than an empty space of black, Nikki wound a hand through his hair, gingerly feeling for the knot he knew he’d find. All too aware of the blood flowing through him, it seemed brick waves were slamming into his skull and he recoiled, unconscious of the pathetic whimpers he let out. Taking a bracing breath, he carefully shifted his legs over the edge of the bed, dragging his body forward.

Sleeping the day away had left him weak and once over Taylin’s bed, he struggled with the window latch, lips pinned together as he crammed his fingers beneath the pane, the first trickle of evening breeze rewarding against the burning skin of his arm. The window gave a loud rubbery squeak and shot up, sending down crumbles of wood and plaster. The sudden exertion had him lurching forward, sill digging into his ribcage as his empty stomach clenched in powerful contractions. His eyes glistened with growing tears and he shut them tightly, black streaks beginning to run. His body victim to contorting waves, he lost his grip on balance and his nails scratched uselessly as he fell gasping to the floor.

Adrenaline and panic had him clawing up his brother’s bed where he collapsed face first. Mouth working against the dampened fibers of the blanket, he tried to call for help, forgetting no one was liquid coated his throat. Swallowing led to choking and coughs too weak. Taylin, make it stop, come back and make it stop. It’s too much.

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He’d long left the rave, but psychedelic trance still reverberated ghostly through his ears; dewdrops glistening all too brightly like blurry stars in the front-yard grass he was shuffling through. Eyes half-lidded from tiredness and the fading aftereffects of a joint, he dug for the house keys in his pocket. The second key opened the door and he was greeted by murky darkness and the thrumming hum of the fridge. Kicking off his shoes, he yawned and made his way blindly up the creaking stairs.

Entering his room, a gust of cold embraced him, sending shivers down his back and working to clear his head. His frown of confusion dissipated at the open window and he was comforted by the sight of his twin’s curled-up figure on his bed. The curtains billowed, a rustling of tree-branched leaves and a curious sound that couldn’t be placed. A guttural rasping distressed in its efforts to be heard and finally, it didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense that Nikki would be struggling to breathe. Hey… He approached him quickly, arm stretched out to grab his shoulder. Nikki?

The silvery moonlight only served to cast shadows and turning him over, his hands coming away wet with vomit, he frowned and felt his heart stutter, fixated on the dark trails of tears—and then on the lack of sound. Fuck. Frantically, he rolled him onto his back, climbing on to kneel beside him. Just hang on, ok? Please, hang on! He intertwined his hands, placing them above his abdomen, hesitating on the thought of hurting him. Sorry, he gasped, shoving upward, pulling back to administer a harder thrust. The body beneath him jerked, coughing up a spurt of bile and Taylin quickly pressed his ear to his twin’s wet chest, fingers fanning against his narrow ribcage, but with the tumultuous pounding of his own beating heart, he couldn’t hear, feel, or be sure of anything.

Lightheaded, he began panicked chest compressions, leaning down to tilt his head back. "I’m sorry, so sorry, I should’ve listened, I should’ve come back, but I didn’t… Wiping his mouth, he blew in air, hoping it would go to his lungs. He’d never given CPR before except to a dummy back in middle school and the use of 911 was a number never encouraged to call. Please…please… Prepared to give another breath, a glassy glimmer halted him and he turned his head, his laugh a few winded gasps as he returned his brother’s dazed gaze with a staggered, manically relieved, one of his own. He clutched his face fervently, stroking cheekbones with his thumbs, nuzzling his nose. Baby baby, talk to me, tell me—how can I make it better?"

A quiet exhale warmed his cheek and dilated pupils, unfocused and staring through him, flickered about torpidly. He gave him a gentle shake, willing reassurance into his smile when Nikki looked him in the eyes. There you go, see, you’re safe. He continued stroking his cheek, as much comforted by the action as he hoped his twin was. Wearily, Nikki turned his head, his gaze still listless, and apprehension ebbed at Taylin’s reassurance.

Indistinctly he could make out the dresser, his body numb and weighted down like the sand-stuffed feeling in his head. He wanted to say he was cold, but suddenly he wasn’t sure if he was and it was too much effort to figure it out. An unsettling warmth of pain gathered near his chest and he ignored it, letting exhaustion disregard the goings-on around him. He couldn’t even muster an annoyed grumble at the jostling his twin was putting him through.

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Eyes closed tightly, he smoothed back drenched black hair with one hand, the other braced against the wall for slippery support against the swirling dizziness forcing him to sway. Blindly, he fumbled for the silver handle, cranking it to the left to shut the water off. Tender coils of misty steam rose, separating themselves from the draining puddles of hot water. Nikki let out a shallow breath, leaning against the warm tiles, waiting for the last shivers of lightheadedness to dissipate.

You ok in there?

There was no apparent warmth in the tone and his words were clipped, revealing a crossness Nikki knew wasn’t aimed at him. If it wasn’t for you being out there right now, I certainly wouldn’t be, he replied, squeezing water from his hair. He eyed the papery scars his reflection showed across his chest with a tired sigh and reached for the waterproof concealer, glancing at the door to reassure himself he had locked it. Taylin, can you talk to me? Doesn’t have to be deep, mindless works fine. What’s the weather like? It was quiet until a thud against the door drew his curiosity. Tai?

An unconventional nickname, it was one Taylin never questioned; they both couldn’t remember how it’d been created—only that there was never a time where he didn’t respond to it. He slid down against the door, messing with his hair. Unlike his twin, he couldn’t erase the events from his head so easily. "Last night when I was…gone, he gritted loathingly, and you were…did you call for me?"

He set the flat iron down, a straightened chestnut lock briefly burning his cheek. He quickly tucked it behind his ear. Taylin, it’s ok, he said softly, fingers trailing along the counter. Honestly, he was surprised his twin had been able to pick anything up at all. Most of the time it was nothing more than a glorified sixth sense, easier to identify when the emotion was out of place.

"I ignored it. I felt it, I did, but it just didn’t click. I never even thought once that you’d try and reach me," came the quiet confession.

Hey, it’s a bit foggy, but I think you gave me the kiss of life while high. Nikki opened the door, looking down at his brother, crouching to join him. He tilted his head with a smile. That’s pretty impressive.

Not when you consider that if I wasn’t, I would’ve been here sooner and—

Look, I understand I freaked you out last night, but really, there’s been worse. Next time, I promise to keep breathing, ok?

That’s not funny.

Assuming a penitent look, Nikki leaned forward, brushing a kiss onto his twin’s lips. Love you. It worked and his brother’s guilt seemed temporarily assuaged.

Taylin sighed dramatically, giving his cheek a quick caress before turning away nonchalantly and getting up. Yeah, guess I love you too.

Oh aren’t you feeling charitable.

Taylin glanced around the room, heaving yet another sigh and folding his hands atop his head. Tell you what isn’t though. This room’s space.

Nikki joined his survey, eyeing the messy room. The carpet was visible due to the mound of clothes piled onto his brother’s bed, but the narrow space between the beds and bulky desk and dresser pieces canceled out the relief one got from being able to see the floor. I think…it represents how we feel about this place pretty well, he reasoned. Claustrophobic.

Taylin snagged a shirt that had missed his glance the first time, tossing it with the others. Is the washing machine empty?

Nikki fell back on his bed, making faces at the ceiling. It should be…want me to go check?

Nah, I’ll go…

Probably should’ve separated the bed stuff from the rest, seeing as how I ralphed all over them.

Taylin shrugged. Whatever, I’ll separate it when I get there and just throw dad’s stuff in. He grinned when his brother giggled quietly.

Don’t—he’ll think I did it.

He’d never find out. Carelessly chewing on the lip rings, he stared at his brother splayed out on the bed. Through his dark shirt, he could see where the cave of his ribs ended; the shallow of his stomach not disturbing him any less. You need to eat more, you know that right? I feel like if I look at you too hard, I’ll crush you.

Nikki laughed. Well maybe you need to tone down the intensity.

I’m not kidding.

He rolled his eyes. Ok, I really don’t want to argue about weight issues—you’re not exactly packing yourself. Straightening out his shirt, he stood up, rubbing his arm self-consciously. Um, I’ll be downstairs. You coming?

No… I’m gonna shower first. He stood there long after his brother had gone, looking at the floor and twisting the bottom of his shirt.

The fridge door had only been open a few seconds before Nikki closed it again. He hadn’t heard his father, so when he turned around, he took an immediate step back before relaxing slightly. Ivan was already dressed to go, in a simple white shirt beneath a brown leather jacket and jeans, a glint of gold flashing around his wrist; he wouldn’t waste time on him.

Morning, he said.

Hey, Nikki replied, glancing around the kitchen, drumming his fingers against the seat of his pants. The laminate was curling from the counter, revealing something dark and grubby underneath, and the dishes in the sink had been cemented together by days’ old grease and while those in the dishwasher were clean, no one had thought to take them out. I hate this place, he said quietly.

His father grinned and Nikki quietly marveled at the off good-naturedness of it. Some monsters had scaly skin, long fangs, and thick curved claws, but the scariest didn’t look that way at all; they had disarming smiles and faces one wanted to be liked by. I can think of a few reasons why. But the ill humor drained quickly from his eyes, leaving nothing to personalize the sheets of ice. Why we’re here is none of your concern.

Nikki rolled his eyes and managed to stalk passed him. It never is. He walked out the front door.

Taylin hopped down the stairs and into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, giving it a quick scan before closing it. Ivan allowed a smile.

Your brother just did that.

We planned it. Taylin turned around. While you’re out, you should go shopping. Beer isn’t what we had in mind.

Noted.

Crunching over gravel, Taylin made his way to the side of the house where he knew his twin would be sitting. He joined him quietly. Nikki grabbed another stone, setting it on the growing pile of rocks. Is he gone yet? he asked, his voice muffled by his arm. Trembling fingers made his next placement unsteady and the stone tumbled.

Taylin looked down. No. But he should be any minute. He stopped Nikki’s hand from grabbing another rock, holding onto it instead. His fingers were cool. How do you feel?

I’m good.

Taylin didn’t say anything and continued to stroke his twin’s hand. To him, good didn’t mean fine; it meant Nikki was dealing with whatever was bothering him. It wasn’t an answer he liked hearing because in other words, he was once again the older brother who couldn’t help. He looked up quickly as his brother sat himself down on his lap. Try as he might, dad can’t scare me into not wanting this.

Let’s say…about three? It’s ten now, Ivan said, looking at his watch. He nodded. Alright, sounds good to me. Have you already seen the place? He wrote down the address. Oh really? Well, that’s what I hired you for. Nothing cheap, nothing fuchsia—and use some common sense, ok? No one needs to be able to control the TV taking a shit. Alright, talk to you later—uh-huh, you too.

A bird above them squawked and Nikki broke away, looking down the side of the house. Hands lowered to his hips, a comforting pressure. But no figure appeared around the corner; there was a faint jingle of keys and then a few seconds later, the slamming of a truck door.

Did he just… Taylin felt something cold settle in his stomach and carefully pushed his twin back. He got up, brushing himself off and started to jog around the house.

Nikki picked up a stray smooth rock and reluctantly followed his brother to the front door. He tilted his head as Taylin cursed and hit the door with his fist.

Bastard locked it.

The rock slipped through his fingers and he quickly bent down to pick it up. Are you kidding?

I wish I were. He hit it again. Damn it! Do you think he did it on purpose?

Nikki shrugged. Dunno, he said softly. Their father had never locked them out before, but it wasn’t unlike him. He tucked his hair back and Taylin jumped off the steps.

Well at least I have you with me, he said and Nikki smiled, nodding.

But if I was inside, I could’ve let you in.

The wind picked up and Taylin wrapped his arm around his twin’s waist, his hand firm against the scar. Then I wouldn’t have been outside.

You’re going to have to buy me lunch. And a metro card. No wallet.

Mhm, let’s break a window. Nikki grinned and tossed the rock as they made their way down the sidewalk in the direction of the towering downtown.

Ivan grunted as he lifted the box, nearly half his weight in old battered documents, on top of the stack. The boys weren’t home and normally he wouldn’t have cared where they were, but now they were on a schedule. If they came back too late, they’d be greeted by an abandoned house. Passports spilled out of a poorly-zipped unmarked bag and huffing, he gathered them up again, stuffing them back in. He rolled his eyes as he registered the cell phone in his pocket. Yes, modern technology now helps you keep in touch with your kids.

He wiped the sweat off his brow and pulled the phone from his pocket, noting the one missed call from Taylin. He pressed speed dial and waited for someone to pick up. It was Taylin’s number, but knew if he was too slow, Nikki would snatch it.

…Yeah?

Hey sport, thinking about heading back now?

I don’t know, thinking about lettin’ us in?

Ivan pulled a face, rubbing the back of his neck. There was a twinge in his shoulder and he gave it a roll. You saying I locked you out?

Don’t worry, it’s hard remembering that you saw both your sons leave the house before you did—it’s ok, we forgive you.

Ah well, I’ll slip a key under the doormat. He grabbed a beer from the fridge. Damn it, I didn’t go to the store. He heard a sigh and a quiet ‘haha, like we really thought you would’ in the background and vaguely wondered if it was worth the trouble to make Nikki regret saying that. He was interrupted by Taylin’s voice.

And that’s ok too, we already ate…we won’t be hungry for a while.

Ok, well how far are you guys? he asked, setting the bottle on top of the box.

Just walked into the neighborhood.

Alright. He hung up and downed his beer. There was no reason to tell his sons they were moving anymore; he wanted to see their smiles, not hear their questions. And the hardened part of him didn’t even care for that. He looked around the living room for any personals. The furniture would be staying. It was always left behind. He scratched his head, penned the word ‘documents’ in neat capitals with a sharpie on the box, and went outside.

He didn’t have to wait long; he could already see them holding hands. He shook his head in disgust, running his tongue over his teeth. A way would have to be found to end the copious amount of time they shared together.

If you’re gonna keep staring at us like that, we’ll turn around and leave again, Nikki said once they were close enough. He was squinting against the sunlight, his head cocked to the side.

Yeah? And I think you’d fare better with your mouth shut, Ivan said, standing up and looking pointedly at his watch. We’ve got fifteen minutes. More than enough time to make you—

Dad, Taylin interrupted, feeling his twin shake beside him. He stroked his hand reassuringly. He didn’t know what else he could say, anything else would provoke his father to take his brother from him.

Ivan rolled his eyes. Get in the car, fag. You too. He turned around and went back into the house, leaving the door open.

"See? Why does he feel the need to bring that up?" Nikki asked softly. The intention had been clear and his stomach was still constricting into knots, aided by the memories of the last time he’d been dragged up the stairs.

Taylin pulled him into a loose hug. Because he’s fucked up, he said, stroking his hair.

And what does that make me?

He sighed and grabbed his hand, leading him to the truck. Nothing like him. But you know what you are? he asked, once they were settled in and Nikki was comfortable on his lap.

What?

Mine.

His lips pulled into a worn smile and he nestled against his chest, wishing that along with their mother, their father had disappeared too.

Another beer settling in his system, car keys in hand while carrying a plastic box, Ivan headed out. Tossing the container onto the passenger seat, he hauled himself in, slamming the door shut. Eyeing the rearview mirror, he started the ignition. Okay, let’s go.

Go where? Nikki asked, having had moved and dutifully buckled himself in.

You’ll see when we get there.

Oh spare me the details, he muttered, earning a wry smile and nudge from his brother. Without the constant chatter of the radio, the silence seemed to drag its weight in concrete before their father spoke up again.

Nikki, there’ve been some things said…and done that I wish I could erase. But if you’re strong enough to keep the past where it belongs, I’ll promise to be a better father—to the both of you.

Nikki bristled at his choice of words. If I’m strong enough? How about when you’re man enough to call the past what it really is, I’ll consider it. He gripped Taylin’s tense arm, staring up into his eyes. He makes me so sick, he whispered, Taylin’s jaw tightening in response to his whine. He sighed, knowing what came next.

Could you and would you ever forgive me?

He opened his mouth in mock surprise and then rolled his eyes, hating to say the same thing he’d said only a couple months ago. Of course…how could I not forgive my own father? He leaned against Taylin. It’s like regurgitating lines for a film, he whispered. I mean, why bother?

Because he’s the director of this sorry-ass film, Taylin muttered.

Let’s quit. The pay isn’t even that good.

Taylin grinned. In actuality, the allowance they received monthly on their card was enough for them rent an apartment and live lavishly on their own—only their father would never allow it and they knew better than to ever try it. The burdened silence was back again and Taylin looked out the window, his brother leaning over him to peer out too. They zoomed passed a sign post that welcomed them into the unfamiliar county of Dusty Springs. They swapped confused looks; their father had sometimes threatened to drop them off in a strange place if they didn’t behave themselves, but they’d always assumed he’d been joking.

There were no skyscrapers, nor the constant color of shaded gray. Flower baskets hung from street lamps and captive trees grew in obedient clusters, lending nature’s mystique to artificially-rustic buildings. They drove through what seemed to be the touristy section of the town and much to the twins’ relief, passed a district more akin to the big city they were used to.

Almost there, Ivan let on.

Passed the neighborhood’s security gate, all the houses appeared to be newly finished with a suburban similarity and showed no signs of human living. Nikki threw his brother a hopeful glance. Could we be moving? he whispered.

He shrugged. Empty windows, unblemished paved driveways, and manicured lawns; he craned his neck, looking for any small sign: a turned-over tricycle, a quick-footed cat, a crushed beer can. It would…make a lot of sense.

Ivan drove around the corner and down the street, pleased to see the van already in the driveway. Slowing down, he pulled up in front of the two-story house; its dark brown accents and velvety red maple tree conveying a standard of family warmth that would scarcely be considered, much less lived up to. He turned off the engine, already grinning loosely as the boys squirmed anxiously in their seats. Opening his door casually, he watched them get out with less grace as they practically fell to the ground, quickly straightening up with hesitant and expectant faces.

He strolled toward them leisurely, stopping by Nikki’s side to gaze at the house. We’re home, he acknowledged. Whether it was his close proximity, the excitement, or a mixture of both, Nikki ducked his head, an antsy fit consuming him, leading him to edge away slightly.

"Dude, are you serious? Taylin guffawed. ’Bout time we left that shit…but nothing’s packed."

When do we ever? Nikki reminded quietly, but he turned a slightly optimistic eye to their father.

Some of it’s been boxed. We’re still going back, Ivan said. He clapped a hand on Nikki’s shoulder, sending a jolt through him. Now, you know the rules, right? A shadow crossed their faces and both nodded obediently; Taylin’s more indifferent as he kicked the ground. You tell no one of this move until I say it’s ok and for the first couple days, I want you to stay in. Firearm will be in its usual spot. Clear?

Got it, they responded.

Ok, go, don’t bother the movers, he said, gesturing to the front door. The twins ran up the paved way and disappeared inside.

Strangers were putting furniture into place and Nikki side-stepped out of their way to the left, bumping into a dining table. Patting the glossy wood unconsciously, he glanced at the bar, wandering into the kitchen, spotting a cellophane-wrapped gift basket on the empty white counter. Curiosity aroused, he plucked the embossed brightly-colored greeting card, his interest dulling at the message:

Welcome to your new home, Radakovich! Hope all is to your liking—if anything needs to be exchanged, you know how to reach me. Say hi to the boys for me.

Best wishes

Natural light from the sliding glass door by the fridge made reading the card easy, but it was evident there was no name or number written anywhere. Even his acquaintances are secretive. He wondered if it was the same person they sometimes ordered stuff through. He dropped the note and stared into the den, two carpeted steps leading the way, but was put off by the gaping darkness beyond it. The lack of light didn’t seem to bother the movers at all as they moved efficiently through, setting down an unfamiliar couch.

Peeking into the hallway between the den and stairs, the three rooms weren’t enough to warrant his immediate investigation, so he jogged up the wooden stairs, delighted when they barely creaked.

All four doors were open, filling the hall with long rectangles of slanting sunlight. Going into the first bedroom on the right, his eyes swept through the empty room, coming to rest on a tiny white door near the closet doors—inside, an elaborate crawlspace equipped with a narrow staircase. Worming his way up, hands patting for steps, he let out a muffled cry of surprise as he bumped his head on another door in the darkness.

Compared to the size of the door and width of the staircase, the attic revealed to be a lot more spacious, although still vertically challenging. The air thick and dry with stale heat, the only light came from a mossy skylight. Tilting his head, he took a step closer; the call of his name was an immediate distraction.

He quickly turned around and crawled down the stairs, escaping through the little door just as Taylin came in. There you are, he grinned. Whatcha doin’ on the floor?

Nikki stood up, brushing off his knees. Exploring. I hope you haven’t fallen in love with any of the other rooms because I want this one. His brother’s grin faded and he played with the bottom of his shirt. Nikki frowned in response, feeling a pit of unease cooling the bottom of his stomach.

Well, you can, he said softly. It’s just I won’t be in it. I’m downstairs. But don’t worry, he quickly added, like he wanted to erase the despair that had shadowed his face. I’ll still come up to kiss you goodnight.

What about nightmares?

My door’s always open.

Nikki pulled at his fingers anxiously, trying to shrug it off. In their seventeen years, they never had had separate rooms before and while he didn’t particularly relish the thought of sleeping alone, something else was bothering him a great deal more. …Does that mean dad’s going to be up here?

Taylin shifted uncomfortably. Hey listen, I’ll protect you, ok? But you have to say something, you have to call me. Scream and I promise I’ll come running. Dad wants to separate us ’cause he said we shouldn’t be so dependent on each other since, he shifted again, we won’t always be together.

Nikki lowered his eyes. How thoughtful. He knew his twin’s vow of protection was well-meant, but there wasn’t anything he could do and Nikki wouldn’t do anything to only exacerbate how helpless he’d end up being. That’s how he hurts you. He put on a lighthearted smile. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. If you were never with me, I’d die…really I would. You’re my other half.

Yeah, I’m your other half and you’re my other half.

Taylin, me being your other half is exactly the same as you being my other half, he giggled, holding out his arms. We don’t have anyone else to share with. With his hands shoved in his pockets, his brother walked into them.

I knew that.

Nikki smiled. You love me? His smile grew when Taylin finally removed one of his hands to place it on his back.

Yeah ’course, more than anyone in the world.

You sound so convincing, Nikki sighed wryly.

That or the fact you know I’m going to be wailing ever so quietly in my empty bed tonight. Come check out mine.

Nikki followed his twin out, eyeing the door next to his. But having his brother in his place was no better option.

The twins trampled downstairs and into the hallway. Slightly smaller, the empty room looked no different, save for the sliding door mirror closet. Nikki waved absently at his reflection. That would freak me out at night, he mused, turning around to look out the window. It was built low—low enough for them to crawl out of and already he thought of nights spent stargazing and drifting through neon-lit streets. We should sneak out like that sometime.

We’d feel pretty badass.

We would. And kinda exposed.

Taylin grinned. That’s the best part.

Hello? called out an unfamiliar voice.

Returning the mock horrified face his brother was making, Taylin waved him along and together they made their way back to the stairs where a couple of guys stood, supporting mattresses.

Just tell us which rooms ya want them in.

Nikki blinked and pointed upstairs. Well mine’s up there, the first door on your right. Can you put it near the windows?

And mine’s just down this hall, also the first door on your right. …And near the window.

Copycat. Nikki’s response fell on deaf ears as Taylin flipped open his phone. He pressed his lips together and raked his hair back, the gesture quickly becoming ginger as his fingers touched upon a bruise. He sighed and reached out to squeeze his brother’s arm, gaining a halfhearted turn.

Yeah?

I don’t know if there’s any plan, but dad hasn’t said anything, so I’m gonna go take a nap, ‘kay?

He nodded. Yeah, I’ll let you know if we leave.

Nikki flashed a coy smile. Well I don’t care if dad leaves, I’m just worried about you.

"Haven’t been here for more than an hour and