Finding My Twin

Maya had been a distant star in my universe for years, and without her light, my world felt dim. Her smile was my lifeline, radiating warmth that I craved every day. We had shared everything—secrets whispered in the dark, dreams sketched in the margins of our notebooks. While she thrived in LA, studying environmental science with our parents, I remained in Canada, buried in English literature, surrounded by friends who felt more like shadows.

"Mira," Leah's voice sliced through my reverie, pulling me back to my cramped dorm room, where the walls seemed to close in on me.

I sat on my bed, surrounded by scattered textbooks and memories of Maya. Unbeknownst to me, tears slipped down my cheeks, tracing paths of longing. I remembered the last time we were together, her laughter filling the air as we raced to the swings in our backyard.

"Mira, you're crying again," Lila said softly, her brow furrowed with concern, as if she could see the weight on my heart.

"She misses her twin again," Leah teased gently, her tone light but laced with empathy, trying to coax a smile from me.

"Come on, Mira, let's chill out," Leah suggested, a playful smile tugging at her lips, her energy infectious, like a spark trying to ignite my own.

"No thanks. I'll study for tomorrow's English lit class," I replied, hastily wiping away the evidence of my sadness, feeling the familiar pull of my books.

"Girl, why are you always holed up after class?" Leah asked, her brow knitting together in worry, concern etched on her features.

"Mira, listen," Leah continued, her voice firm yet caring. "Maya wants you to live a happy life. But look at you—you're turning into a hermit."

"Yeah, she's right," Lila chimed in, nodding emphatically, her eyes softening as she reached for my hand.

"Come on," Leah said, reaching for my hand, her grip warm and reassuring. She pulled me outside, where the world felt alive for the first time in ages, the air buzzing with laughter and chatter.

The fresh air hit me like a splash of cold water, stirring a mix of anxiety and excitement within me. As we approached a cluster of classmates lounging in chairs, laughter and shouts filled the air.

"Yo, Leah, over here!" a guy called, waving us over.

Leah led the way, and self-consciousness crept in, tightening my chest.

"I can't believe Mira is here today!" one guy exclaimed, his grin infectious, as if my presence was a rare treat.

"You've been studying all day—so boring!" a girl chimed in, rolling her eyes playfully.

It's not boring.

"Come on, sit down!" another guy urged, patting the seat beside him.I

 settled between Lila and Leah, their friendship wrapping around me like a warm blanket, but the laughter felt distant, like a melody I couldn't quite grasp. After a few rounds of games, they introduced me to new faces, though I still felt like an outsider. When I finally said my goodbyes and returned to my dorm, relief washed over me, but it was tinged with lingering sadness.

Sinking into my desk chair, I opened my laptop. An email from an unknown sender caught my eye, curiosity piquing my interest. I clicked it open and gasped, a smile breaking through my tears.

"What is it, Mira?" Leah asked, peeking over my shoulder, her excitement palpable.

"I got an email from Maya!" I exclaimed, excitement bubbling up, momentarily drowning out my sorrow.

"Read it to us!" Lila urged, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Alright," I said, my heart racing as I began. "Dear Mira, this is your sister Maya. I really miss you. Mom told me you'll be graduating soon, right? But she also mentioned you're considering coming to LA. Please don't, Mira, because..." I hesitated, tears cascading down my cheeks, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me.

"Because what?" Leah pressed, her voice thick with concern.

"Because I'm leaving LA. Don't try to find me, Mira. I just want you to live a happy life. Love, your twin sister Maya." My voice trembled, the finality of her words crashing over me like a tidal wave.

"Oh my God," Leah whispered, shock etched on her face, her disbelief mirroring my own.

"She's cruel!" Lila exclaimed, anger flaring in her voice, her fists clenched.

"You've been waiting for her for years!" Leah added, frustration bubbling over, and in that moment, I felt the walls closing in, the distance between me and Maya stretching impossibly wide.

After that email, sleep eluded me. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of Maya's words pressing down on my chest like a heavy blanket. Once Leah and Lila finally drifted off, I slipped out of the dorm, my heart racing with a mix of sadness and desperation.

I made my way to the roof of the school building, the cool night air wrapping around me like a comforting shroud. I sat on the edge, my legs dangling over the side, and let the tears flow. The city lights twinkled below, but they felt so far away, just like Maya.

"Why?" I whispered into the night, my voice breaking. "Why is she leaving me?"

The memories flooded my mind—our laughter, our shared dreams. Even after all these years, the thought of her not wanting to see me felt like a dagger to my heart. I missed her so much it hurt. It was as if a part of me had been ripped away, leaving a gaping hole that no one else could fill.

As I stared into the darkness, my thoughts spiraled. The years felt like a heavy weight, pressing down on me, each moment a reminder of her absence. I thought of all the times I had reached for my phone, hoping for a message, a sign that she still cared. But the silence was deafening.

I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to find some semblance of comfort, but the emptiness only deepened. My heart ached with every breath, and I felt like I was falling, spiraling into a void where Maya's laughter used to echo.

"Why can't you just come back?" I cried out, my voice trembling. The wind carried my words away, leaving me alone with my sorrow.

In that moment, I realized I was not just grieving her absence; I was mourning the sister I had lost long before she physically left. The years of separation had built an invisible wall between us, and now it felt insurmountable.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the tears kept coming, each one a testament to my longing. "I just want you back," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the city's hum.