I looked at the empty bed beside me. How I wished I had a twin to fill that up. I imagined a pale face with a pair of bright brown eyes that were so dark, it looked black. Having the exact hairstyle; short with layered fringe, she was my replica. Though we had our differences, we would still be the closest. Finally, I had someone to pour my heart out to. Finally, I could discuss my problems, my doubts with someone whom I did not need to worry about for she would not betray me. I could trust her with all my heart.

We would share rooms, secrets, knowledge. Everything she did, I would know. Everything I did, she would know. I would finish up her sentences, as would she. If something happened to me, she would sense it. If something happened to her, I would know. She would know my temper and would not leave me after it. Never would it be me, but us. We, not I. I had a companion. I did not have to worry about being alone, being a loner, for she will always be there for me. Everywhere I went, she would be right beside me. I could share my happiness with someone.

I jumped up as the thunder roared, bringing me out of my imagination. I stared at the empty bed with despair. That imagination was so real, I had believed it. Sighing, I made my way to the kitchen. As I passed by another bedroom, my imagination slipped again. His back was facing me but I smiled when he turned around. A male version of me. That was how I would look if I were male. We celebrated birthdays together, went home from school together. Bullying me meant bullying him. Insulting him meant insulting me. He was closest to me among the family. Though we might not tell each other very personal secrets, he would still know me the best. I would always look out for him, worrying about his aggressiveness. He would always be behind me, helping me stand up when I fall. That was how it was meant to be.

As I continued my trip to the kitchen, I knew who would be there. As predicted, a tall figure was poking his head into the fridge. Pigging, as usual. I slapped his back and laughed. He jumped up at the sudden shock and hit his head on the fridge. I laughed even harder. This was my older brother. He would always be protective, though I would never admit it, I felt safe with him. He grinned as he saw me rolling on the floor and continued to give me tickles. As always, I laughed so hard, my stomach began to ache. I closed my eyes as tears rolled down my eyes. I waited for more laughter, but none came. I felt no fingers tickling me. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and found myself alone in the kitchen. There was no older brother here to tease me, to bully me. Not believing this, I ran to my twin's room and only saw an empty table with a nicely made bed beside.

I leaned back into the wall, slowly sliding down and ending up having my legs sprawled on the floor. My imagination was the world I wanted to live in, the one where I could have a twin and an elder brother to protect me from harm's way.

But I knew the truth. Never do I have the chance to have a twin. Not even an older brother. It will never be us, but just me.