Unfinished by Carol Oates

Author:Carol Oates
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: hurt, friendship, mystery, forgiveness, death, paranormal, short story, young adult, sisters, high school, ghost, twins, comfort, forgiveness reconciliation
Publisher: Carol Oates

~o0o~

I sat on the edge of the bath later that evening watching Lottie at the sink after her shower. Her damp hair hung down her back and a peach colored towel wrapped around her snugly. Steam clouded the white tile and chrome bathroom leaving the mirror fogged. Lottie reached forward and placed her palm flat on the surface, then dragged her hand sideways revealing her reflection.

I didn’t make a habit of invading her privacy. I believed it was sort of an unwritten rule between the two of us after the hair-cutting incident. I didn’t intentionally get into her stuff and she didn’t get into mine. We shared a womb, we shared a house and we went to the same school. At one time we had been inseparable. I remembered nights spent giggling under a make shift tent made of bed sheets and pegs. Holding hands when our parents fought, drawing strength from each other and whispering secrets in hushed code only a twin would understand. It all changed with a pair of scissors.

Now I thought about it, Lottie always seemed one-step behind me, a pesky fly I couldn’t swat. I didn’t stop to admit she looked out for me. She let me make my mistakes and took my punishments more than once, never saying a word. Delia was one mistake I didn’t want her to pay for.

Lottie’s collarbone protruded distinctly through her milky skin and her arms appeared fragile, as if the bones might crack under the slightest force. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her eat.

“I wish you were here to help me with this,” she uttered quietly to her own reflection—her mirror image.

She was talking to me. I smiled. In spite of the horrendous situation, at least she was talking to me.

“I am here,” I told her, getting up to stand behind her shoulder. When I stared in the mirror, I only saw Lottie. “I am here,” I said again, this time more for my own benefit.

Lottie pulled open the drawer on the vanity unit under the sink and withdrew a small pair of scissors. She held the scissors in her hand, rolling the double sharp point against the tip of her middle finger. It bit precariously into the soft flesh and she glanced up at her reflection from under wet eyelashes.

“I was never brave like you. I stayed in your shadow,” she told her reflection—me. “I should have...” Her words trailed off leaving her thought floating in the air unfinished.

While I looked on in shock, she slipped her thumb and index finger through the holes in the scissors and clutched a lump of her long hair. With a determined glare, Lottie began to cut away the thick, clustered strands and drop them unceremoniously in the sink.

Panic swept through me. “No, Lottie.” My voice cracked.

What the hell was she doing? This couldn’t be part of the normal grief process. Another tuft of hair fell and then another. Unlike me, Lottie loved her hair.

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