One

It was a game we used to play a lot when we were young. If we became annoyed at each other, instead of fighting we would simply switch roles. Astrid would bury her nose in a book, flick her hair behind her ear and begin every sentence with “Did you know”.
I would prance around the house in what I considered Astrid’s “prissy” clothes and dance in front of every mirrored surface and bounce up and down on my toes until everyone’s attention was drawn to me.
The original source of aggravation would be forgotten and we’d burst into giggles when our parents got us mixed up. We could mimic each other’s personalities so fluidly that with our identical appearances, it seemed to others that we had in fact truly switched roles.
It stopped being a game and became more of a reality for me on the day Astrid’s physical presence was taken from this world. Astrid was at dance class, I was in the school auditorium running through a final rehearsal before our debate team faced off against a competing school when the storm broke.
It was a freak event people would later say. Astrid had run outside to grab her water bottle from her knapsack only to be greeted by a bolt of lightning that almost seemed to have been waiting for her.
The moment she fell, on the other side of town, I felt something inside me being torn viciously away. It was painful and terrifying, an agony I have never been adequately able to explain even to myself. The closest I could come was to imagine that someone had reached inside me and pulled my heart out with red hot, blunt, knife.
I fell at the same time Astrid did; but unlike my sister, I got up again.
I remember the sudden clarity I had in the moment the lightning struck. I knew exactly what I was losing and my mind had cried out, “God, no! I can’t live without her”.
When I woke up I knew my wish had been granted. It was a strange feeling; instead of feeling like I had been torn into pieces, I now truly knew what it felt like to be whole. A complete person. Now, after I have finished delivering well thought out speeches in front of judges and juries I come home to twirl and dance in front of mirrored surfaces. I tend to bounce up and down on my toes as I read through case files, beginning me sentences with “Did you know” and making sure everyone’s attention was drawn to me.
Twice, Astrid and I have been torn into two separate pieces.
Once in the womb.
Once by lightning.
But now Astrid and I are what we were always meant to be.
One.

© Alison Pearce 2010-09-30