Symbiosis

sym·bi·o·sis

ˌ simbīˈōsəs,ˌsimbēˈōsəs/

1. A relationship between two people in which each person is dependent upon and receives reinforcement, whether beneficial or detrimental, from the other.

2. Any interdependent or mutually beneficial relationship between two persons, groups, etc.

There you sat. Sister of mine, cheeks flushed, turning your brown skin a russet red that bled deep brown into your smiling lips. A sight you were, with the glow of the sun reflecting off your youth, bringing shame to Aphrodite herself, as your eyes twinkled seductively in the light.

I should have killed you then.

There, in that moment, my perception of your innocence was untainted like the golden halo of curls that framed your face. Giving you the appearance of a fallen angel yet to be ripped from god’s grace. Maybe if I had killed you then, there wouldn’t be this corruption of you and what you once were.

My twin, my sister of mine, born on the same day, two halves of the same soul birthed from a bleeding womb. Unnatural we were, refusing to be separated, we’d tried to escape our mother both at once. Feet first, my left one and your right, sticking from our mother’s sex, laced together like kudzu. I think even then the thought of being separated from each other was too much to bear, and there were times where I would lie behind you at night, pressing my skin against yours, wishing I could absorb in to you. Flesh melding with flesh two halves becoming one.

It’s funny how one moment can change things. How love can turn cold with the slightest tick of a clock, and oh how I loved you. More than I loved myself, more than I knew how to love. So much so that if you’d asked, I would’ve cut out my own heart and with a smile on my face watched as you devoured it. Two halves of a beating organ becoming one. But that fire I burned for you, was now mere embers struggling to stay alight amidst the cold breeze freezing my insides.

If only I’d killed you then as you sat a glorious angel in the sun, I could have saved those flames.

Sweet sister of mine. My mirror image, but even still you were more beautiful than I could have ever hoped to be. In all my dull frumpiness, there was a fire in you, a passion that electrified all who ventured too close. The seductive sway of your hips leaving a trail of musk in its wake, luring men to their deaths in the way of a siren calling a ship to carnage. I didn’t mind how you stole every room we walked into, I trailed happily in your shadow, finding a comfort nestled at your spine.

But like Icarus I’d ventured too close to your flames and ended up scorched like the countless bodies of those you left in your path.

Beautiful sister of mine. The sociopath. That’s what Father called you, Mother said you were only being a 16 year old, but Father was a doctor and he knew different. He was going to send you away, you said, to a hospital for crazies. The hopelessness in your eyes tore at me, sparking up a hate I’d never known, we weren’t to be separated it was an unspoken will of nature ingrained into our bones.

I felt no remorse as we killed them that night. I watched as you took the hammer to his head, the horror in his eyes as he woke just as the metal tip was coming down. The wet crunch of his skull as it made impact, sending a gushing spray of blood onto your beautiful face. A face screwed up in a grimace, but even you could not hide the joy I saw lurking there as you caved in our father. I fed off of it, as I smothered mother with the pillow my matricide almost completed.

With their lies they were going to take you from me. How could you be a sociopath when we were two halves of the same heart, your love for me only fueling mine for you.

I should have let him send you away. Our love was that of a parasite hiding under the guise of symbiosis. You fed off of me and I let you.

Father wasn’t enough for you. Getting away with it, with our story of the “late night intruder” wasn’t good enough for you. You wanted more, and in you awoke an appetite that was insatiable. Body after body piled up, men, and women, but mostly men. Some had their reasons, a wrong look, or a bump in the hall, but others were just for fun and you sliced through them only to be hungry for more when you finished.

Sun shining golden, hazel eyes sparkling bright, I should have killed you then. Before you had a chance to ruin us.

Before him.

What was it about him that you despised so? Was it because even in your shadow he saw me, he chose me. Bright teeth a beacon of light he reached into your spine and pulled me out unbeknownst to you. It was then that I knew what it was like to be seen. I was there, Sister, always by your side but you never saw me, not like he did. Not in the way his eyes appraised my body up under the layers of clothing. He peeled me open with those eyes, exposing me in ways that I’d never been before. Like how his lips would curve over my name “Alyssa”, reminding me that I had one in the first place. See to you I was just Sister, a name I loved and reciprocated, but from your lips it felt like an empty title, ridden with burdens that’d collapsed my sanity.

You walked in on us just as we released and he exited me, spilling drops of my virgin blood, red on the white cotton sheets.

Jealous sister of mine. Never had I seen your eyes go so dark, a crippling rage shaking your slender limbs. I knew what would come next and I didn’t stop it. Choosing instead to leave him to a fate at your hands, because as I said once before I would cut out my own heart for you and in a way that’s what he’d become. Naked and exposed I sat there as you gutted him wasting his life’s blood.

You were swift in your attack, he never saw it coming.

Those warm parts of me mourned him, but that was nothing compared to the joy it brought me to see the happiness in your eyes, when the last of his blood had stained the sheets.

Smiling, I watched as you devoured a piece of my heart.

As always, there I was ever faithful in your shadow, cleaning up your messes, studying 8 years of forensics just so I could do it perfectly for you. All I asked in return was to be at your side. Sometimes, like then, you would even let me watch, but my bloodlust was quenched with mother’s death. So I looked to you instead, the fire in your eyes as you burned through them was all I needed to sate the emptiness in me. Because you see like you something in me was broken, missing, and I found those parts in you. My wandering half. The only thing able to fill in my empty spaces, but you filled your spaces with their blood, and I was there to help you do it.

Maybe if I’d loved him more than you I would have killed you right then, but there was nothing I loved more than you.

Until there was.

A part of him stayed with me, a gift. His seed. It grew in me, blooming slowly like a flower, stretching and pulling taut at my skin. I hid it from you as long as I could, until I could hide it no longer, when it began to bulge like a ripe plum from my thin frame.

You shrugged when I told you. “We’ll just get rid of it when it comes,” you answered without a care in the world.

What I didn’t tell you was that this growing seed had started to fill my empty spaces. That this life growing in me had taken a place in my soul that I’d only reserved for you. No, if I’d told you that you would have cut the flower from my belly right then and there, shredding it like you’d done its father. You were the other half of me, surely in time you would feel that the life in my belly was a part of you too.

She bloomed from my womb in a flush of meaty red, and for first time there was something in the world that I loved more than you. Her smell, her skin, the soft silken bush of her hair tickling my nose as she slept on my breast. These were the things that began to fill up my empty places. No longer did I seek to be in your shadow. No, my little flower needed the light so that she could grow and be strong.

Hateful sister of mine, I could see you lurking in the shadows of our home, watching in jealousy as I nurtured and watered my little flower. Angry that for once my attention wasn’t turned towards you. I’d hoped you grow to love her as I did, but the green eyed monster under your skin wouldn’t let you, and I knew me and my little one would have to leave for a place outside of the darkness of your shadow.

Maybe if I’d left sooner things would have been different sister of mine.

I should have never taken my eyes off of her.

But I was tired, the long nights and early mornings, a small nap wouldn’t do any harm. Just for a few minutes I told myself as my eyes started to close shut. When I woke up the smell of beef stew crowded my nose. I smiled, beef stew was my favorite and you knew it. You were dashing around the kitchen, setting the tables wearing a brown apron, a look that was uncommon on you, especially since you’d never stepped foot in the kitchen. That was my territory.

“Come, come” you ushered me over when you saw me sitting up trying to clear the sleep from my vision. Instinct however drove me to the crib towards my flower but you grabbed my shoulders and steered me to the kitchen table instead.

“Now don’t bother her she’s sound asleep, come eat and celebrate with your sister”.

Alarm bells should have been going off in my head but I was too focused on the fact that for once you were looking at me, seeing me, your eyes lingering on mine for more than the usual split second. Your hand was warm just like your smile as you led me to the table. Sitting me down you went to the stove, bringing over the steaming pot of stew.

“What are we celebrating” I asked you. In response you shot me a knowing look reeking of sugar. “Your leaving of course”

My stomach dropped then because how did you know, I’d kept it secret from you for months, and more importantly why weren’t you mad. You slid a piece of paper next to my plate of steaming food. It was a copy of the lease Id signed for a new apartment.

“Oh loosen up I’m happy for you” you laughed at my tense form.

My eyes found yours, trying to find the truth in your words. When I didn’t say anything you gestured down to my plate

“well go on eat, I made it especially for you. Our last supper together should be special”

Could this be happening, was I right, were you finally coming around and seeing reason. Your life of blood and death was not meant for my flower, surely you could see that now. With a small smile I dove in, letting the food slide warm and salty with flavor down my throat.

“Did you forget to trim the fat again” I was half way through my plate and though the food was delicious, the meat was becoming difficult to chew.

“I decided to try something different, why is there a problem?”

“Just a little gamy is all, what meat did you use, please tell me isn’t the duck again” I mumbled mouth full as I stomached another fork full between my lips.

When you got quiet I looked up and it was then that I noticed that your plate was empty, instead you were leaned forward, a hungry look in your eyes watching me eat.

Those alarm bells I had neglected came blaring in like a million sirens.

Terror ran through my bones as that grin stretched up your face like a Cheshire cat, begging me to ask you that question again.

What kind of meat was this?

She was too quiet, my flower, she should be up right now crying for another feeding.

What kind of meat was this?

My eyes caught sight of the white prepping bowl you used for cutting. Rimmed about the edges was a red so bright and unnatural compared to the light pink blood of pre-packaged meat?

What kind of meat was this?

The food in my mouth turned sour as my teeth ground against something hard. I pulled it out slow, dropping it into my palm with a hard thump. It was small, but I recognized it from the countless times I’d kissed her tiny little hands. A finger, a leaf cut from my little flower by the savage beast grinning at me as I devoured my own heart.