The Usual ((Emma))

[Emmy Parker G6]

Weekends suck, Emmy Parker thought as she took a drag off her cigarette. Even that simple phrase couldn’t sum up just how much Emmy detested weekends. There was a breeze that ruffled the lacey curtains of the window that Emmy sat at, her right leg dangling over the sill as she stared up at the moon and smoked her cigarette. Emma slept in the bed behind her and to her left, completely unaware of Emmy breaking house rules. She had been caught smoking last year, and had been forbidden to smoke in the house. Every weekend, she broke this rule, and every weekend she got away with it. Whether it was because Emma was too deep into her sleep to smell the smoke, or because she didn’t want to tell on her sister, Emmy didn’t know. She also didn’t care. As long as she got to smoke, she was fine with however she was able to. The moon was huge in the sky, and it held Emmy’s attention as she placed her cigarette to her lips again and inhaled. “When the moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie; that’s amore.” Emmy sang quietly as she exhaled smoke into the night air. She swayed her leg back and forth as she finished off her cigarette and stamped it out in the ash tray she held in her left hand. The ash tray was something she hid well in the cottage, considering she didn’t need it at Hogwarts. Emmy couldn’t remember when she had first started smoking, but it had been some time after she had asked Dr. Chance whether or not they could make her donate a lung to Emma. For some reason Emmy wasn’t worried about donating her kidneys, or even her heart, but the thought of donating a lung made Emmy want to squirm. Perhaps it was because of how large they were. Doctor answered no, and sometime that year Emmy picked up her first cigarette from her older brother and hadn’t quit since. She had to have been smoking for two years or so before her parents found out, and by then she had already thought of what she would do when they found out.

Emmy wasn’t sure why she did it. She figured it was a way to control what went on inside of her. She didn’t know how many times she was taken to the hospital to give Emma some blood without being asked if she wanted to. After awhile, Emmy came to realize that her parents didn’t need to ask if she wanted to, because they knew she couldn’t say no to helping her sister. Sometimes, Emmy wondered if Emma liked to live the life they were living. She’d watch Emma with curiosity in her blue eyes, asking her telepathically if she would much rather be dead than going through transplants every summer and dialysis ever weekend and break. Because telepathy wasn’t real, though, Emma never answered back. Emmy didn’t know if she should be happy with this, or disappointed. She settled into a mixed emotion. Over the years, Emmy had grown used to this. She lived with the thought of never knowing to be happy or disappointed. When a transplant worked, Emmy didn’t know if she should smile because it did or cry because later on down the road Emma would just need another. Emmy never cried, though. So she always ended up being solid and not saying anything. She’d hug her parents when they cried tears of joy and she’d hug her sister when Emma was she was thanking Emmy for the kidney or the blood or whatever it was that she had given up. But inside… Emmy felt nothing. With a sigh, Emmy pulled another cigarette out of her carton and lit it. Her eyes remained on the moon as she smoked her third cigarette for the night. “They’ll kill you, you know,” a voice said below her- causing Emmy to jump slightly and have to grasp the window ledge. She peered down to the ground to see her older brother leaning out his window with a cigarette between his fingers.

Emmy merely shrugged before flicking the ashes onto her brother’s head, “They’ll kill you for not stopping me more than they’ll kill me for smoking,” she replied lazily before stamping out the cigarette anyway. He was right, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. Besides, three was enough. She muttered a good night to Keith before turning from the window and collapsing onto her bed which was on the right of the window she had been sitting in. She crawled in underneath the cotton sheets that she rarely ever slept in, and fluffed her pillows up before turning on her side so she was facing Emma’s bed. They had always shared a room, for as long as Emmy could remember. Even at Hogwarts they shared a room. Emmy didn’t know if she should hate this, or like it, so again… Emmy was caught into a mixed emotion. “You made the room smell, Em,” Emma’s voice didn’t sound groggy at all, which meant that she had been awake the whole time. Emmy looked at her sister and from across the room she could see the same eyes staring at her – only Emma’s held more life in them. Emmy’s were dead, dull, and were just a shell. “I’m sorry,” Emmy replied in a whisper, “I just… today was bad,” “Very bad,” Emma interjected in a hushed whisper, even more hushed than Emmy’s had been. “Yeah, I need to relax…” “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain it to me, but if Mum finds out; you’ll have to explain it to her.” “You aren’t going to tell?” Emmy asked in a slightly louder voice, but Emma’s reply was in the same hushed tone it had been in. “Have I ever told?”

Then, as if they were five again, Emmy reached across the gap between the two full sized beds. Emma reached across, too, and pressed her palm to Emmy’s before whispering, “Through thick and thin, remember?” Emmy smiled softly in the dark, “Always.”

[Emma Parker]

My earliest memory is when I am three. I’m sitting in the reclining chair in the living room with Emmy, a picture book spread over our laps. Our mom is playing on the piano to make some background noise. Nothing big happens in the memory, it’s just a simple one. I suppose that’s why I remember it so vividly. It was nice. It was before the leukemia really set in. The pen froze over the journal, Emma’s blue eyes stared down at the entry. All of my memories now, are full of needles, surgeries, drugs, tears, and pain. Every now and then I get a memory with laughter, but even in the pictures we take to capture those memories I can tell Emmy isn’t really happy. I start to wonder… when did my sister’s happiness dim? The pen froze again as she tried to think of more to write, or really, how to write her thoughts out. They made perfect sense in her mind, but on paper, Emma knew they would make no sense at all. It was how it always was when Emma tried to put her thoughts and feelings into writing. I start to wonder… what kind of memories does my sister have? And do those memories, do they in any way, have an impact on her happiness? There’s only one person who knows, and asking her is… impossible. Emma signed her name and dated it before closing the leather cover of the journal and setting it inside the drawer of the nightstand that was to the left of her. She laid in bed, her blonde hair falling in curly locks no matter how horrible she looked. She maintained the curls because she knew that Emmy appreciated it. It was how people knew to tell them apart. Emmy had straight hair, and Emma had curls. “Emmaline,” came the voice of her twin sister as she entered the room with a small smile on her face. Emma smiled back, knowing that the fiction name was something only they shared. Emma was just Emma, not Emmaline and if anyone else ever called her that – she jinxed them. Emmy was the only one allowed to call her Emmaline.

“I heard yelling,” Emma replied as Emmy flopped onto her bed across the room from Emma’s bed. The gap between the two beds wasn’t that big, because Emma had never liked to be too far away from Emmy and vice versa. “Yeah,” Emmy stretched the word as she wiggled out of her pajama bottoms and pulled on a pair of jeans, “Keith has done it again. He came home drunk last night, which is funny, because… he didn’t seem drunk when he told me to put out my cigarette last night.” Emma twirled a strand of blonde hair around her finger as she looked over at her twin sister pull her pajama top over her head and place her t-shirt for the day on in its place. “Maybe he wasn’t,” Emma offered with a small shrug. Emmy scrunched her face up as she pulled her own blonde hair into a pony tail, “Why would he act like he was then?” It didn’t take a beat for them to answer that question in unison, “It’s Keith.” For him to seek that kind of attention, it wasn’t uncommon. He would often pretend to be drunk or whatever to get his parents to realize that he was still there, he was still their son. “He should take a page out of your book, Em,” Emma looked at Emmy as she froze in putting her eyeliner on. “No, Emma, he shouldn’t. I’m just as bad as him sometimes.” Her voice was quiet as she stared at herself in the mirror, and then she continued to put on the eyeliner in silence. Emma tucked her hair behind her ear before she slid even further into her bed, “Yeah, well… you wouldn’t be if it weren’t for m-…” “Don’t say it, Emma! Don’t even think it!” Emmy had turned around, dropped her eyeliner pencil, and sat down beside Emma on her bed. She pulled Emma into a hug, bringing her arms around the fragile body of the cancer patient. “I wouldn’t give you up for anything, anything. Do you hear me?” Emma fought back the tears that were in her eyes. They went through this often. Emmy always told her that she wasn’t holding her back from anything, but Emma disagreed. How could Emmy live a real life with Emma holding her down with transplants or whatever else is needed that month? The truth was, she couldn’t.

“Yeah, I hear you.” Emma finally replied so Emmy would release her hold. Emmy held her sister at arms length, and alarm crossed her face. Emma’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she started to lean over the edge of the bed. “Emma? Emma? Oh, damn!” Emmy reached toward the window where the waste basket sat and pulled it toward her and Emma who immediately threw up in it. Because she hadn’t eaten that morning, Emmy hadn’t been expecting to see anything. She was wrong. Emma continued to heave into the waste basket as Emmy held her up and screamed for her parents. Soon, they rushed into the room and over to the two girl’s sides. Emmy wouldn’t let go of her sister, and it took her father and mother ten minutes to convince her that she had to let go of Emma so they could help her. Emmy let go and Emma fell forward slightly before Campbell grabbed her and held her up. “What happened, Emmy?” Emma heaved into the waste basket again as Carol-Ann turned to look at Emmy. “She…we were talking and then she… just threw up. She hasn’t eaten… and mum it’s blood,” “That’s usual, honey. Why don’t you go into Keith’s room, we’ll call you when everything’s under control or… if you’re needed.” Emma heaved some more and Emmy stared at the scene before her before leaving the room and heading toward Keith’s room.

More wonderful memories in the making, was Emma’s last conscious thought before she heaved some more and passed out.

[Emmy Parker G6]

Emmy didn’t head straight to Keith’s room immediately. She made a detour to the bathroom down the hall from her bedroom. She flicked on the light and closed the door behind her. Making sure it was locked, Emmy turned around to look at herself in the mirror. Her blonde hair had fallen out of the pony tail she had haphazardly put it in, her eyes were half-way lined with charcoal coloured eyeliner pencil. “An Alice who fell through the Pool of Tears out of Wonderland and wants to get back in,” Emmy pulled the black pony tail holder from her hair and raked her thin fingers through it. It didn’t fall out in clumps, which meant it was still healthy. As she tugged on her blonde hair, Emmy’s mind drifted to the Christmas when her and Emma had been 7. Emma had been put on chemotherapy, and it was because of the medicine that she lost all of her flaxen hair. Emmy, to make her twin feel better, took her father’s clippers and shaved off her hair. “Now we’re twins again,” she had told her sister with a toothy grin. Emma had called it the best Christmas present ever. Emma’s hair had grown back slower than Emmy’s had, but in the end they had the same length hair. The only difference between the two was how Emma’s seemed sickly and pale. Emmy’s now looked like that while her sister’s was the beautiful gold that it should be. Emmy let out a sigh and splashed cold water on her face before picking an eyeliner pencil out of the cabinet and finishing her eyeliner. She closed the cabinet door and then unlocked and opened the bathroom door. Without turning into her room to check up on Emma, because she knew what she would see, Emmy headed toward the basement stairs and traipsed (clumsily) down the stairs to her older brother’s room. It wasn’t a new expedition for her.

“She sick again?” Keith’s voice startled Emmy and she wheeled around to see him shoving clothes into the washing machine. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, continuing to watch her 17 year old brother do his laundry. “When isn’t she sick?” “Good point.” Emmy nodded and followed him into the actual room part of his room. Keith had the whole basement to himself, well, with the exception of the washing machines which everyone used. He had a loveseat, a bed, his own entertainment center, a mini fridge, a sink, and a tiny oven he rarely ever used. There were empty pizza boxes everywhere, not to mention glass beer bottles and empty cigarette cartons. Emmy sighed, disgusted and collapsed onto the couch, “How can you live like this?” “I don’t. I’m only here at select moments of the day.” “Right.” Keith pulled the grey t-shirt he had on over his head and lifted a dark blue shirt to his nose as if checking if it was clean by the smell before pulling it on. Emmy shook her head, “You’re disgusting,” she told him as he sank down beside her and put his arm around her on the back of the couch. “Thanks, you’re pathetic.” “Oh, really?” “Ya, really.” Emmy reached up and ruffled his blonde hair with a teasing grin on her face, “That makes you doubly pathetic Keith Andrew.” “Whatever you say Emmy Michelle.” They looked at each other moment, silence engulfing them, but that silence was broken with a thump from upstairs. Emmy jumped as her eyes flickered up to the ceiling which would be the floor of her room. “Keith, do you think…?” “Don’t say it Emmy, don’t even think it.” Emmy looked at him at those words. She found it so ironic that he was telling her the exact thing she had told Emma moments before. But it was hard not to think about it. Any day, any moment, Emma could relapse and she could… she could… “Emmy, you’re thinking about it.” Keith told her as he stared into her eyes. She looked down as tears welled in them, certain that Keith couldn’t see them.

“EMMY, KEITH!!!” That was all it took. Their names. With the sound of their names, Emmy and Keith both jumped up and barreled up the stairs to the main floor of the house. Campbell stood with a limp Emma in his arms, blood all over her, and Carol-Ann was trying as hard as she could to gather what was needed. “Damn,” Keith muttered as he moved to help his father with Emma and get her settled in the car. Emmy stood at the top of the stairs as her mother shifted through her purse and then looked up, “We might need… she might…” “Blood.” “She lost a lot of it, Em,” Emmy closed her eyes and nodded her head, allowing her mother to lead her out of the house. She didn’t even feel the change of air. How many times had she gone through this? How many more times will she? It wasn’t that Emmy was bothered by it, but she felt like it wasn’t doing any good. Still, even with these thoughts, the sight of her sister made her forget all of them and think only of saving her. Only of helping her. Emmy settled in beside Emma, who Keith situated so she was resting her head in Emmy’s lap. Emmy sent him a sarcastic smile, knowing he only did it because he didn’t want to be thrown up on if she woke up. Emmy didn’t mind if she threw up on her, though. They shared the same blood, literally. There wasn’t anything that Emmy and Emma didn’t share. Except the leukemia, Emmy thought as she tucked her sister’s beautiful blonde hair behind her ear.

[Emma Parker]

Emma never knew how they arrived at the hospital in London, because she was always unconscious during the trip. Whenever she asked Emmy how they arrived at the London hospital from their cottage in Scotland, Emmy would give her a confused look and say she hadn’t been paying attention, but she was certain they never left the car. Emma always wondered how, but never asked because she never remembered. She remembered now, however, as she flipped through the channels on the television that as mounted to the wall. “Mum?” Emma paused in her flipping through the channels to look over at her mother who was reading a book in the chair beside her bed. “How do we get at a hospital in London so quickly?” Carol-Ann looked up from her book with an amused smile on her face. The question had been asked by Emma plenty of times, but only to Emmy; so her mother’s reaction wasn’t surprising. “The car, your father and I had it enchanted to fly when we moved to Hogsmeade. It’s the only reason why we have it.” The answer to the mystery wasn’t nearly as interesting as Emma had thought it might be. Now she wished she hadn’t asked, because then her and Emmy could spend countless hours making absurd guesses while they waited for the anesthesia to kick in before some surgery or another. The game would be forever lost upon the twins now. Emma slumped down in her bed, disappointed. She stared at the television screen, which was portraying some black and white movie, as she tried not to think about being in the hospital. She had been in it enough times to call it her second home, but Emma still hated the smell of it. She scrunched up her nose and slumped even further into the bed just as Keith and Emmy entered, bringing the aroma of smoke with them. This caused Emma to slump still even more into the bed, the smell of smoke was far worse than the smell of hospitals.

Emmy crawled on to the bed with her sister like she always did, and Emma was relieved to know that Emmy wasn’t the one who had been smoking. Emmy nestled down beside her sister before reaching over and stealing the remote control to change the channel, “Hey, I was watching that!” “Oh, you don’t even know what it was…” Emmy smirked and started to flip through some more channels. “So? I was still watching it.” “Don’t worry, we’re twins, we enjoy the same things.” Emma pouted slightly as Emmy turned to stick her tongue out at her sister. They laughed at each other before turning to look at the television. The twins, Carol-Ann, and Keith all sat in silence a moment; either watching the television or reading a book. It was when Dr. Chance entered that the silence turned to a vacuum of sorts. All four Parkers looked at the doctor in his white lab coat who was searching through the clipboard for Emma’s files. It was always this way whenever a doctor came in, even one who had been with the family for years and years. They were always expecting the worse, always. This way, if the worse did happen, they wouldn’t be too surprised. No reason to be disappointed. “You all can breathe,” Dr. Chance said as he looked up with a smile. There was a ‘whoosh!’ as Emma and Emmy both made a show of blowing out lengthy breaths simultaneously. They broke into a giggle fit as Dr. Chance pulled up a chair at the foot of the bed with full intentions of briefing them on why exactly Emma had been hit with vomiting up blood so suddenly. “Well, it’s just the usual, Emma. You lost a lot of blood by vomiting it all up, but you didn’t lose enough to need a transfusion from Emmy. You should be able to go home tomorrow, but I recommend bed rest.” He looked over at Carol-Ann who nodded, “And that means while you’re away at boarding school, as well. Emmy, you’ll make sure she stays in bed, yes?” “Yeah, what else am I good for?” Emma swatted her sister lazily at the remark, but all Emmy did was shrug. Dr. Chance signed something and handed it to their mother before saying his good byes and leaving the room.

For the next half hour, Carol-Ann continued to read her book while her children played a game of exploding snap (with the door closed of course). Their laughter was like music to her ears, and she found herself reading the same sentence ten times before she realized she hadn’t gone any further in her book. She couldn’t help but wonder if that laughter would remain throughout the rest of her life, or if something tragic would happen where the laughter dimmed to nothing. Where smiles were strangers in the house. “Mum! You have to try this!” Emma was beaming as she threw down her card which snapped and caused the rest of the cards to frizzle into smoke. “Well, it would appear I can’t, you destroyed the cards.” Carol-Ann replied with a grin. Emmy and Emma rolled their eyes at the same time as the cards formed again and started to reshuffle. “It’s magic, Mum.” “Oh, right, of course.” Their mother blushed and hid behind her book again, causing Emma and Emmy to giggle. Keith watched lazily as the cards dealt themselves to the three of them and then dropped into a pile to draw from on top of Emma’s food tray. They started another round, and were half way through it when the door opened and they had to shove the cards off the tray into a trash bin. Bad idea. There was a ‘BOOM!’ from deep inside the tin trash bin and smoke wafted up from the top. “Exploding snap, again?” Campbell asked as he closed the door and turned to see his children coughing and waving the smoke from their faces. “No answer needed,” he smiled and bent down to peck his wife on the cheek before sinking into the seat beside her. “What did Doc say?” His eyes found Emmy’s and she shrugged, “The usual.” Campbell raised his eyebrows at Emmy’s uncharacteristic demeanor as she jumped off the bed and pulled her jacket on over her shirt. “I need to get some air, I’ll be back in a moment.” With that, she left the room faster than anyone could say ‘Quidditch.’ Emma watched her sister’s retreating back before putting away the newly restored exploding cards.

It wasn’t fun unless Emmy was there to play with her.

[Emmy Parker G6]

Emmy’s feet carried her out of the hospital room and down the hallway toward the elevators. She pushed the down button and waited for the lift to reach her floor. With her arms crossed and her eyes on her feet, Emmy didn’t realize that someone had followed her out of the room until she felt a hand on the small of her back. She looked up and saw the face of her father just as there was a ding from the elevator and the doors slid open to reveal an empty lift waiting for Emmy to go down. She stepped inside and let her thumb hover over the G button until her father was standing beside her, and then she pressed it and the doors slid shut with another ding. There was silence, except for the annoying elevator music that was drifting around them, between the father and daughter as the elevator dropped to the Ground floor. Emmy began to wonder why her father had followed her or if he had followed her at all. Perhaps he had just decided to get something from the vending machines. Even with this perfectly possible reasoning that was running through Emmy’s mind, she knew he had followed her and now that she knew this, she wanted to know why. She cast a glance at her father as she stood on the sides of her shoes, “Hungry?” she asked him. Campbell looked up quickly, “Starved.” “Do you want to grab something to eat? I mean, something that isn’t low sodium?” Campbell chuckled and nodded while there was a ding from the elevator and the doors slid open. They stepped out into the brightly lit ground floor and headed toward the entrance to the hospital or the exit to the parking lot, whichever way you saw it. They stopped at the front desk and asked the clerk to ring up the room and tell everyone where they went so they wouldn’t start to worry (“Not that they would, no one ever worries about me.” Emmy had said, and Campbell had given her a confused look before telling the receptionist the room number).

The night air was cold and crisp, but Emmy welcomed the cold. The cold gave you space, it let you clear your mind and think whereas the warmth suffocated you, it clogged your mind and destroyed your ability to… understand and believe. She knew her father was like this, too, because he was a logical thinker and they were quite alike; which was why it went without saying they would walk to a near by restaurant. They walked in silence as they exited the parking lot of the hospital, the wind pushing Emmy’s hair to the left and blowing Campbell’s black suit jacket in the same direction. “So, kiddo, what are you in the mood to eat?” he broke the silence as they stopped at a crosswalk. Emmy kept her eyes on the little sign that indicated whether they should cross or stay, right now it said to stay. “I’m not sure. I know what I haven’t had in awhile,” at this she turned to look at her father, her blue eyes matching his brown ones, “Chinese.” A knowing smile crossed Campbell’s face as the light turned to ‘cross’ and they stepped onto the marked path that crossed the busy street. When Emmy had donated her kidney to her sister when she was younger, Campbell had taken her to a shabby Chinese restaurant and given her a book that his father had given him. It had become their special memory, and even though Emmy never spoke about it or admitted it, she cherished the memory more than she cherished any other. It was this shabby Chinese restaurant that they were now heading toward. They passed stores that were closing; a book shop with the owner just flipping the sign around, a coffee shop that had the owner pulling a metal gate down so no one could get in from the front, and many others. Night always interested Emmy, especially the city at night.

The aroma of Chinese food greeted the father and daughter as they entered the restaurant. Emmy slid into a near by booth while Campbell went up to place their order. He knew what to get, just like Emmy knew he would come back and say; “You can always say no, Em.” Emmy shrugged as she pulled a napkin from the napkin dispenser and picked up the salt shaker. She tipped the salt shaker over the napkin and watched the white grains fall onto the white napkin. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. It’s a lot to ask, and I know you and I know you hate having to donate anything.” “That’s not true, Daddy.” Emmy looked up from the napkin and stared into his brown eyes. She had always called him Daddy, it was a term of endearment that she wouldn’t ever get rid of. She did not, however, call her mother Mummy. Carol-Ann had never deserved that term. “I’d give my heart to Emma if I was asked to, and I know you wouldn’t blame me… but Mother would and that’s one person I don’t want to have to be blamed by.” Campbell gave her a sympathetic look before taking the now half empty salt shaker from her hand and putting it back in its rightful place. “Your mother’s…” “Pushy? Over bearing? Unreasonable?” “Well, I was going to say difficult, but those are all good descriptions of her, too.” Emmy rolled her eyes before picking up the pepper shaker and tipping it over her napkin while Campbell stood and retrieved their food. He set it in between them and handed her the chopsticks and the container that held her sweet and sour chicken. She picked up a piece of chicken and put it in her mouth, being quite skilled in the use of chopsticks, without difficulty. Her father, however, was a different story. She laughed as his piece of chicken dropped for the fourth time before he put down one of the sticks and stabbed the chicken with the remaining one. He gave a triumphant grin as he chewed his food and they continued to eat in silence.

“I just want you to know, Emmy,” Campbell said later on when he came back from paying the check, “that I’d defend you if you ever did say no.” Emmy stood from her seat and smiled as she pulled her jacket on, “I know.” “Good, let’s get back, then.” She allowed herself to be pulled into his right arm and she even allowed him to kiss her forehead in the fatherly way he used to when she was younger. Together they stepped out into the cold night once more, ready to head back into the hospital that held the inevitable. Neither were ready, but neither cared.

[Emma Parker]

Meanwhile back in the hospital, Emma had finally torn her gaze away from the door to look at her brother who had fallen asleep on the small blue leather couch by the window. His dark blonde hair fell over his closed eyes that were brown underneath the eyelids. She sighed and then looked at her mother who had also fallen asleep. Her mother had light blonde hair and, Emma knew, the same blue eyes that she and Emmy had. Now, her attention turned the television which lulled her into a kind of sleep that felt so deep that she didn’t even hear her father and her sister return. She wasn’t completely asleep, though, so when Emmy returned and crawled into the bed beside Emma; she knew it, because she felt complete again. Emma slid her hand next to Emmy’s and Emmy pressed her palm against Emma’s. “Always?” “Always.” There’s this thing about twins, about how if they are separated, they become distraught. This was truer when the twins are young, around the ages from one to ten. When the twins hit their preteen years, they are usually able to grow apart and be themselves. However, Emmy and Emma did not have this type of luxury. They were always together, and Emma was dependent upon Emmy; therefore they were never given the luxury of growing into who they were capable of being. It would always be because of this that Emmy couldn’t bare to be away from her sister for too long, even though at some times Emma wished she would stay away for at least awhile and not just an hour or so. But there were times like this, where they shared a special bond over their misery, that made them enjoy each other’s company. They fell asleep together, their heads touching.

“Have we got everything?” Carol-Ann asked the next morning while they looked around the hospital room. “Yep, let’s go home.” Emma wheeled herself out of the door, Emmy running to catch up to push her so she wouldn’t wear herself out. Emma was always the most anxious to go home, and it was always evident by how much she actually forgets. Such as her not being allowed to do certain things because they can wear her out. Emmy always made sure she didn’t and Emma appreciated that. They were in the car almost immediately, and instead of Emma falling asleep like she always did; she waited to see just how this worked out. It turned out that her father pushed a button and the car became invisible, before it lifted into the air and they could fly over the city without worry. The ride home was long and dull, but when Hogsmeade came into view… Emma felt her heart race. She loved the view of the cottage because it always placed a feeling of belonging and love in her heart where loneliness and fright were usually habited. The car swooped downward and plunged into the small drive way outside the cottage, where Campbell turned off the car and everyone filed out. Emmy and Emma made their way up into the room where Emma would be resting for the remainder of the weekend, and Keith went downstairs to see what he could do about cleaning (Carol-Ann had lectured him about being filthy the night before).

“I hate that place,” Emma said the instant the twins entered their room. “Hear hear,” Emmy replied as she flopped onto her own bed. Emma looked at her sister and nodded before grabbing some clothes out of the dresser they shared. “I’m going to go take a shower, if Mum asks; tell her I’ve run away.” “Funny, Emmaline.” Emmy threw a stuffed animal at Emma’s retreating back. Emma entered the bathroom and shut the door behind her, locking it. She turned to look at herself in the mirror and let out a sigh. She hated her life. She hated hospitalization. She hated having leukemia. She hated it. But did she tell anyone? No. Because she knew it wouldn’t any good. Complaining about it did no good at all. The most Emma could do was put on a smile, and waste away. Or… was there more she could do? She chewed on her lower lip as she stared herself in the mirror. She opened the mirror to reveal the medicine cabinet behind it. Her thousands of bottles of medication were arranged alphabetically. She had tried once, twice, thrice before. It had never worked. She was always taken to the hospital. But would they notice now? Emma reached up and pulled out four different bottles of medicine, four medications that shouldn’t be mixed together, four medications that were fatal. She popped the top off one, and pulled out two pills before placing it on her tongue, turning on the water in the sink, and taking a drink from it. She swallowed the pills. She moved to the next bottle. Popped the top off that one, pulled out two more pills, placed them on her tongue, drank, and swallowed. She was moving to the third bottle when there was a shriek from down the hall. Emma jumped and knocked one of the bottles off, scattering the contents everywhere.

Emma bent to scoop the pills into the bottles when there was a bang on her door, more shrieking. She didn’t need to open the door to know who it was.

[Emmy Parker G6]

It wasn’t big. Nothing huge. Just a subtle change. One that Emmy wouldn’t have even noticed if she hadn’t been so accustomed to it not being there. It was a tug at her gut. Something that told her that perhaps, just maybe, something wasn’t right. She tried to push it away and to chalk it down to her just being paranoid, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. And then, yes then at that precise moment that Emma swallowed her first couple of pills, Emmy felt it. She jumped from her bed as she let out a scream and headed toward the bathroom. She felt it again. Another couple of pills. “Emma!” Emmy launched herself at the bathroom door, scratching at it with her fingers, “Emma! Don’t! Emma!” Tears were welling in Emmy’s eyes as she banged on the door. How did she know her sister was popping pills? How did she know her twin was going to try and kill herself? Simply because… Emma was her twin. Emma and Emmy were part of the same. They were one. Their blood was the same. Always had been. It always would be. That telepathic crap you read about in books isn’t true. Emma and Emmy had never been able to hear each other’s thoughts. They didn’t have to. They were connected in a higher way, a higher plane of life. When one twin was threatened, even by themselves, the other twin knew. “Emma!” Emmy tried the knob for the millionth time; except… this time? This time was different? This time it opened. Emma had unlocked it. Emmy pushed it open and saw Emma sitting in front of the bathtub, tears in her eyes, and medication bottles clenched in her hands. “Close the door,” Emma whispered, and Emmy obeyed, even though she knew she should have gotten her parents. She sat down beside her twin with fright in her eyes, “Did you?” “Yeah, but don’t worry; the pills I took won’t do anything but make me nauseous. You stopped me before I took the ones that would really do any damage.”

“Emma…” “Don’t, okay, Em?” “Are you crazy?” Emmy asked, her anger and fear rising up inside of her. “No!” Emma’s voice was strong, “I’m just sick of waiting for something that’s going to happen anyway. I think I’ve messed up everyone’s life long enough, don’t you?” “But… Emma, we don’t want you to die. We’ve tried so hard to make sure you don’t. You can’t just… kill yourself.” Emmy watched as her sister turned from angry to distraught, depressed even. This was a side of Emma she had never seen. Sure, it was an inevitable side that had to have been there the whole time, but… Emma had never shown it. “I know,” Emma whispered as tears poured from her eyes, “I know. I can’t.” Emmy looked taken aback. The way she said it. It wasn’t saying that she agreed with Emmy, it was saying she had tried before. “Emma…” “I said don’t, Emmy!” “Well, hell, Emma! You just… you just told me you’ve tried to kill yourself before! How am I supposed to respond?!” “Just GO AWAY!” Those words were words that Emma had never spoken to Emmy, or vice versa. They were always able to bask in each other’s company so the need to push away each other was never strong. At least, not on Emmy’s side. Now, not only was Emma pushing Emmy way emotionally, she was pushing on Emmy with her small hands; shoving her up and out of the bathroom. “Just leave me alone to die in peace!” She moved to slam the door in Emmy’s face, but Emmy stopped it with her hand; “Give me the pills, all of them.” Emma’s gaze faltered before she turned and threw the thirty bottles at Emmy from over her shoulder. Emmy knew, and so did Emma, that she wouldn’t do it any other way. Emma wanted to die the way she would have died without the suicide. With medication coursing through her veins. “Don’t tell Mum,” were the last words Emma said before slamming the door in Emmy’s face.

Emmy stared at the door, fighting the urge to break it down. After ten minutes, she let out a sigh. She would know if Emma tried anything. She would know. That’s what scared her. Emmy turned, gathered the medications, and headed back into her room where she dumped them in the empty drawer by the bookcase. She slid it shut and locked it with the key that was usually placed inside the lock, this time she took it with her. She was still quite shaken as she went downstairs to Keith’s room, which was becoming steadily tidier. At least she could sit down on the couch without sinking into a pile of clothes. He was throwing away all the pizza boxes when she entered. “Hey,” he greeted with a dull tone, one that certainly expressed no surprise at seeing her. Emmy waved a hello as she clicked on his television. As if she had turned on the water from upstairs, there was a sound of running water through pipes and Emmy felt relief wash over her. “You okay?” Keith broke her relieving moment. “Yeah, just, caught Emma doing something I didn’t think she ever would.” “Popping pills?” Emmy looked up sharply, “How…?” “I’ve caught her once, too.” “And you didn’t tell anybody?!” “Who was I supposed to tell, Em? Mum? Dad? You? No. I carried her to the car, took her to the hospital, and called Mum and Dad from the hospital saying she had thrown up and passed out or something like that. You were away somewhere, I don’t remember where.” Emmy stared at her brother.

“Summer. Second year. That was why she needed my kidney. The drug overdose.” Keith shrugged and kicked aside a pizza box, “Guess so.” “God… we were twelve.” The idea that her sister had tried taking her life at the age of twelve was unfathomable.

[Emma Parker]

Emma stared at herself in the mirror that hid the now empty medicine cabinet. Her blue eyes wandered over her reflection, taking in her appearance. The flaxen hair was a light brown now that it was wet and it fell in natural curls down her back and over her shoulders. The lips that were normally fastened into a smile were now frozen into a frown, lifeless and dull. She looked like someone dying. I am dying, she thought to herself bitterly as she turned sharply from the mirror and left the bathroom. Emma wasn’t stupid. She didn’t cringe at the thought of her death, actually, more often than not – she welcomed the idea. She didn’t tell anyone this because she knew no one else would understand, not even Emmy. Emma and Emmy had always been inseparable. They were always with each other when they were able to be, sometimes even when they weren’t. The telepathy thing was a joke, something made up by some crack pot old fool who wanted money or attention, possibly both. They didn’t have a twin, that was evident; because if they did – they would have known that they didn’t need telepathy. Twins just knew. Emma had always been able to tell when Emmy was angry, not because she could read her thoughts – but because she became angry for no reason. If Emmy was in pain while Emma was under anesthesia, Emma could still feel it. It wasn’t a physical pain that haunted the twins, no, that would have been pleasant compared to this. The pain and emotions they shared with each other would always start as a small throbbing in the back of the mind. It could be diagnosed as a headache, but no amount of Tylenol could get rid of this headache. The throbbing would grow until it became a scream, and then that scream would dissipate. You’d think it’s the end, but it’s not. The scream would fade, the throbbing would return, and then as if all at once; emotions poured into you and soaked your very soul. All in one second. Emma had felt her sister’s anguish when she had tried to break down the door, and then her relief when Emma had turned on the water. It was proof, to Emmy, that she was still alive, but barely. Only barely. Always just barely.

When Emma had first found out she was dying, or just ill according to her mother, she had almost immediately been against Emmy donating anything. She tried to take her life when she was twelve, hoping it would set Emmy free of surgeries, needles, drugs, and the rest of the world of leukemia. It didn’t. Keith found her before the pills could do anymore damage than they already had. Instead of saving Emmy from having to donate anything, Emma had single-handedly caused her twin to have to give up her kidney. Emma had felt horrible about that, but no one seemed to care. She was living, that was what mattered. Well, to everyone else except her. Emma hated living her life like she did. She appeared happy, always smiling, never complaining – but that was a façade. Something she did to make everyone else happy, because to her that was what mattered. Her happiness could suffer for their happiness. At least… Emmy’s happiness. “Well, at least you’re breathing, Emmaline.” Emmy didn’t look up from her magazine as Emma entered the bedroom they shared and collapsed gracefully onto her bed. “Emmy… I-…” “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it, let’s just forget it happened, okay?” “Oh… okay.” Emma stared at the still form of her sister before rolling over onto her side, her head lying on her left arm. Her feet brushed against the headboard of the bed as her eyes traveled over her mirror image. “You can stop that, Emma,” Emmy’s voice sounded annoyed, but at least it wasn’t angry. “If you want to look at me, look in the mirror, there aren’t many differences.” “I’m studying you,” Emma replied with a smirk. Emmy dropped her magazine to her lap, her mouth agape. “You’re whating me?” “Studying you.” “That’s creepy.” “Well, I think that if I’m going to need a hand and you’ll be giving it to me – the least I can do is study how you use it.”

Emmy’s icy blue eyes stared into her sister’s. “If we didn’t look identical, I’d wonder whether or not we were really related.” Emma grinned and sat up, leaning her back against the headboard. “We are, trust me.” “Hehm.” Emmy returned to her magazine with no apparent desire to continue the conversation, and Emma sighed – swinging her eyes away from her twin and up to the ceiling. Emmy’s demeanor was cold a lot of the time- that of a Slytherin more so than a Gryffindor. The only time she ever showed affection was when they were both thinking of the same thing, other times, she had a scowl on her pretty face and fire in her eyes. Emma was different. Constantly smiling, although most of the time it was fake, and always with something good to say. She had no doubts as to why she was placed in Gryffindor. She was “brave” to battle a disease that would kill her eventually. Emmy, however, was a mystery to Emma. It would seem that her twin was placed in the wrong house. And that often bothered Emma. Why be in Gryffindor when she was meant to be a Slytherin? At this thought, Emma looked over at Emmy again. “Why are you in Gryffindor?” Emmy flipped through the magazine absentmindedly, but didn’t answer. It was her way of trying to get Emma to forget asking anything, but Emma wasn’t giving up that easily. “Emmy. Tell me. Why are you in Gryffindor? You’d be better in Slytherin, even Ravenclaw.” Emmy stopped flipping through the magazine and looked over at Emma. They stared at each other in silence for a moment and then she said simply; “I asked to be.”