The Twins

Row row row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily Merrily Merrily Merrily
Life is but a dream

He hears the song echo in his head. The voices , he knows, belong to the twins, his twin-stepsisters. They’re evil, he also knows. The first look at them gave him the chill. “They’re just 10-year-old girls, what can they do?” His mother had said right after he gently pulled on his mother’s suit jacket at dinner.

“They’re evil, just look at them.” Of course, the girls were displaying their most adorable puppy dog eyes. His mother turned back to him with a look that said, “really? You’re seventeen, grow up!”

“Sleep well, big brother,” the unison of voices haunts his mind now.

It’s a dream, he tells himself mentally. It’s a dream, he repeats.

“No, it’s not a dream,” the voices reply melodically. “Your sleep will last an eternity.”

He opens his eyes and takes a moment to adjust to the bright light. How come it’s so bright in here? He wonders before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. That’s when he hears a creak. He lets out a high-pitch squeal as the boat wobbles uncontrollably back and forth. He hears a chilling laugh and searches for the source.

The twins stands on the shore, holding hands. There is something about them. He narrows his eyes and squints. He screams off the top of his lungs,

In the dark, he bolts up on his bed, panting. He looks around his room before placing a hand on his pounding chest with relief. It was just a dream.

“Bad dream, big brother?” He lets out a high-pitch yelp and jumps.

The twins stand next to his bed, their eyes, just as he has seen it on the boat, hollowed out like the eyes of a skeleton. He squeezes his eyes shut, hugs his knees, and rocks back and forth. “It’s a dream, it’s a dream, it’s a dream.”

In the dark, he screams again and sits up on the bed. This time, he’s alone in his room. Then someone barges into the room, he screams again as his mother flicks on the light. “What’s the matter?” She asks, “I can hear you scream from a mile away.”

“I’m telling you, mom. The twins, they’re evil.”

“Oh, grow up.” His mother answers, turns off the light, and exits the room without shutting the door.

Like someone about to faint, his head falls back on his pillow. “What’s the matter, big brother?” An eerie monotonous voice says.

This story was originally published on September 12, 2015.

Written for MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Photo Prompt Challenge, which I believe it’s still running. A photo is given and we are to write a story.



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