Jan 13, 2022
1 mins read
I met her in the depth of the night. She looked nothing like me - she seemed older, weirdly shrunk and somehow exhausted from her time on earth. She looked tiny, crooked and walked crunched as if holding on to an invisible cane.
There was something medieval about her, something innately dark. She was broke, had no family of her own, never married, had no house and no possessions. She was alone - she said she hated having company. She believed she could not connect with anyone so what was the point in trying?
She was deeply lonely but also completely unaware of it. She was spiteful towards everyone and everything, every word she spoke was soaked with jealousy.
She was miserable and wanted everyone to be so too. She fed from the darkness around her, the pain of others was what kept her alive. She hated the sun and bloomed in the darkness.
No wonder she was the outcast of the village. In fact, everyone was convinced she’s a witch.
I couldn’t believe we were related. I couldn’t believe she was my twin. And yet I could. Was I anything like Melinda?!