Twisted

Mirror to my soul - Tristan

I love my life. I know it doesn't sound possible but I do. Of course, things are far from perfect but such is the nature of life in general so I don't let it worry me. I'm the only child of a single parent and people are always expecting me to be dysfunctional. I don't see why. So I don't have a father, big deal. My mother loves me. She works hard to make sure I have everything I need and goes out of her way to make time for me when I need her, that in and of itself deserves respect. It's not easy raising a child on your own and I'm not about to complicate matters for her even further by giving her all that grief someone like me is expected to give simply because I may be missing a father figure. I don't need one.

Yes, puberty may have been a little less embarrassing if I had, had a male figure at home to confide in but I managed. My mother was more than willing to answer any questions I had and those I simply couldn't bring myself to ask her I simply brought to Soren. Now, he has more than one male in that dysfunctional family of his and let me tell you, the things you learn from cousins of cousins can't be beat or repeated for that matter.

Either way I'm happy with my life and that is how I intend to stay. There is only one tiny hitch in my plan. Soren is supposed to meet me at my locker. After waiting ten frustrating minutes I sought him out, intending to give him a lecture on tardiness only things didn't exactly go as planned. Soren is flirting with some punk on the school stairs. What does he think he's doing? He's been my best friend for as long as I can remember yet there he is, my best friend, sitting on the stairs to school flirting with some stranger I have never laid eyes upon. He's never done this before, ever which is why I'm more confused than angry right now.

I guess there is only one way to find out what's going on and I don't intend to stay in the dark all that much longer. Shifting my backpack I march up to my best friend and the stranger he seems to be avidly engaged with. "Soren. What are you doing?" Soren and the stranger turn to me in unison and the moment they do, shock courses through me. This stranger, this person that Soren seems so comfortable with… he… uh… How shall I put this? He looks like me on steroids.

"Um, Soren?" I hate how my voice sounds. I hate the high pitch that manages to escape me and most of all I hate the derision in my, no wait, his eyes. Man, this is disconcerting. It's like looking into a mirror that's decided to go all loopy on me. Except for the clothes and the hair this guy may as well be me, me on drugs, that is. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

"Tristan?" Soren's tone is filled with disbelief and he's gaping at me, for once in his life at a complete loss for words. If not for my clone sitting before me, it would be rather amusing to see Soren so shocked but unfortunately I'm far too busy trying to deal with my own shock to pay much attention to the amusement factor of this entire farce before me.

"See, I told you, you had the wrong person. Now that you've found your beloved Tristan, why don't you leave me alone?" I can't believe this. This stranger is downright rude and the arrogance in his tone is grating on my already thinly stretched nerves. I can't believe that he's turning around and dismissing me, dismissing us, so casually. If this is a joke, I must tell you it's sick and twisted and if Soren has anything to do with this, best friends or not, we're over.

"Who exactly are you?" I demand pressing in, in between Soren and my look alike. I need answers and I need answers now. This trip to the twilight zone has to end. Where on earth did Soren find someone that looks so much like me, anyway? Or maybe it's makeup. You know, like those masks they use in movies to portray characters that couldn't possible exist, either way, this isn't very funny and I'm about to say so when my look alike decides to speak again.

"It's none of your business. Why don't you just leave me the hell alone, already? The happy couple has been beautifully reunited and can now live happily ever after without me." It's been officially decided. He's an asshole. Seriously, why is he being so rude to me when all I want to know is who he is and why he would play this cruel joke on me? In case, you haven't noticed, I'm the victim here. The least he could spare me is the courtesy of a straight answer and what the hell is with his implication? Soren and I are not dating.

"Soren…" I fight to control the panic in my voice as I try one last time to find sanity in this entire situation. "Who is he and why is he here?" I clench my hands and it's a battle to keep from screaming. This is simply too ridiculous to be even remotely real.

"I thought he was you, Tristan. I just…"

"Don't give me that!" I have lost what little control I have and am now yelling at Soren, yelling to try and deal with the surge of emotions waging war within me. Why do I feel so betrayed all of a sudden? "Why are you doing this to me? Is this some kind of sick joke or something?" Please tell me this is a sick joke. I can deal with this if it's a sick joke. I'll be mad as a hellcat and Soren will probably get the silent treatment for the next month or something but I can deal with this if it's only some twisted prank.

"Sick joke? You think this is a sick joke? Of course you'd think this is a sick joke. What are you? Mommy's boy or something?" The asshole interrupts me once more, sheer arrogance and distain dripping from his voice and that is the last straw. No one, and when I say no one I mean no one, insults my mother. I grab hold of him, intending to hit, shake him or tear him apart, anything to just get rid of this confusion suffocating me from the inside out. Only I don't get that far. The moment I touch him I realize his skin is clammy and cold. He's every bit as shaken up as I am.

Sure, he's acting all arrogant, seeming to dismiss both Soren and me while casually throwing insults at us but now that I look at him properly I can see the ashen shade of his skin. His eyes are a touch too wide and his fingers are trembling, clenching and unclenching with unseen tension. He's every bit as shaken up as I am and that's enough to tell me that this isn't some sick joke directed at me. No, this is all too real and for the life of me I can't even begin to imagine the consequences that are going to greet us as soon as we are coherent enough to actually start noticing them.

"Who are you?" My voice is hoarse, the volume now gone, wiped clean with the realization that this question is the most important question I've ever asked anyone to date. This is important and I want to know, I need to know who he is and what this… this… mirror image before me actually means.

"It's none…"

"Don't you dare say it's none of my business!" I snap, interrupting what I know he is going to say. Damn him and his bloody arrogance. Can't he see that I desperately need to know what's going on? None of this makes any sense to me and it feels like my world has been turned inside out just to give someone a good laugh. Now, wouldn't that be interesting. I'm filled with confusion, anger and for some reason that I still cannot pinpoint, bitter betrayal. My mirror image is sitting here before me, giving me the cold shoulder and treating me like dirt when all I want to know is who he is.

"Are you blind or something?" My frustration is still seeping into my voice and I'm resisting the urge to shake him, shake him till he tells me what I so desperately want to know. "Who are you, damn it and why do you look like an emo version of me?" I know we're not supposed to judge others on appearances and I'm trying really hard not to but I need to. For some reason that I really don't want to contemplate the origin of, I need to differentiate myself from him or risk losing my very definition.

"Do you really want to know?" He snarls at me, his voice holding far more aggression than mine could ever manage to accomplish and his teeth bared at me in anger. It's disconcerting. It's so very disconcerting to see my face staring at me with an expression I have never seen let alone one that I could possible hope to emulate, etched upon its features, and to make things worse this is not a mirror. I'm touching this reflection and it's real, warm and breathing. I can feel the reflections pulse beneath my hands beating in time with mine and it… it's just…

"Yes…" I force the words past my lips, ignoring the fear and uncertainty that are now coursing through my veins. "I really want to know." The statement echoes between us, between my reflection and me and I can see the echo of my turmoil in his eyes, eyes like mine.

"Fine." He snarls, his lip pulling back even further as sheer aggression radiates off of his very stance. He pushes me off and I fall, down from my haunches and onto my ass still staring at him, uncaring of all except for the answer to this single question of mine. "I'm Meamin Kyle," He stands and dusts himself off, staring down at me with a haughty expression, "your long lost twin brother. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Tristan." My name escapes his lips in a hiss and he turns and leaves.

Turmoil and confusion course through me and I seek out Soren's gaze. His green eyes are filled with shock and disbelief and he';s staring at me as if he doesn't know me. What on earth is going on here? Why is my best friend looking at me like… Hold on a second, did he say twin brother?!

A/N: Here is the second part of the first chapter, giving insight into Tristan's mind I hope. I tried to make Tristan a touch more innocent than Meamin and hope I succeeded. Either way, I hope you all enjoy. Please forgive the lack of review replies. Off to dance soon but I wanted to update so you all know I am alive and well.