Page 13 of The Cute Psycho

"It's not her fault," is all I say, but Father is quick to assure me no harm will come to her.

"I know she... that she's your twin," he amends, and that gives me a little hope. Maybe he will see how important Vanya is to me, and that she should stay by my side.

She is, after all, my better half.

"From the beginning. She's been sneaking to see me. Please let us hang out. She calms me," I say, hoping he'd understand.

"She calms you?" he asks.

"Yes, she does."

"Son..." he starts, shaking his head, and taking a step back, "Your sister's dead."

"What?" I blink rapidly, afraid I misunderstood him. "What did you say?"

"Your sister's dead. She's been dead for the last seven years," he explains, but I stop listening.

My ears are ringing, a deafening sound pulsating in my eardrums. My hands go to cover them, hoping to lessen the impact of the noise, but nothing works.

I fall to my knees, eyes wide, limbs shaking.

No... he's lying.

"Vanya's alive," I state, full of confidence. Why, I'd seen her just a few hours ago.

"Son, look at me," Father says, and numbly, I do. "Valentino Lastra found you and your sister in a cage. You'd been taken by a madman and..." He pauses, taking a deep breath. "Your sister was already dead when they found you two, and you weren't far behind. I... the doctor told me you'd likely blocked the information because it was a traumatic event, but this...Bozhe, you've been seeing her from the beginning..." He shakes his head, "This isn't normal."

"Dead?" I ask, my mind honing in on that one word. "Vanya's dead?"

She's been dead this whole time?

No! All this time, she's been here with me.

"She's not dead," I state again, and out of the corner of one eye I see her. But before my very eyes, the fifteen-year-old Vanya that had grown alongside me suddenly morphs into a child, her clothing torn and dirty, blood pouring from every orifice.

"No..." I mutter, and my feet start moving, chasing whatever phantasm resides in my head. "She's not dead," I say again, running after her.

Idon't know where I am or where I'm going. Time ceased to exist the moment Father dared to imply my sister is dead.

She's not.

How can she be dead when she's been by my side all these years?

I've seen, heard and touched her. We spent days and nights talking, debating, and sharing our most personal thoughts.

She can't be dead!

I stare at the empty subway seats, my mind a mess of thoughts. I'd followed Vanya's form all around the city, hopping from stop to stop in hopes she'd talk to me.

Confirm she's not dead.

Even now, my senses are on alert, looking for any sign of her.

I can't help but think back to all the moments we shared, looking for clues it might have been all a lie. But as I examine each interaction, I'm left with a sense of terrifying loss. Because to me, it all seemed so real.

But if it's not...

My vision falters, and images start to get jumbled in front of me, everything fuzzy and unclear. I bring my hands up to rub my eyes, willing the fog away from my sight.

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