She

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


cover design: Dreaming by Jan Leornard Wollert

Submitted: September 10, 2018

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Submitted: September 10, 2018

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She.

She’s out there again. I can see her sitting on the swing in the back garden. She always looks sad, lonely. I’ve never seen anyone else with her. She brings with her a glowing orb, one that sparkles and sprinkles the garden with blue splashes. It’s strange how no one else seems to notice the lights as they blink on and off around the garden – no one other than me.

She looks like me too. In fact, she could be my double, my twin. Her hair is the same color, the same length. I usually have mine tied back but if I let it loose it would be the same style to.

Of course, with her sitting on the swing, I can only guess at her height, her weight. From what I can tell we are exactly the same. Where does she come from? I’ve certainly never seen her in school. She’d be in the same class as me, or at most the one above or below. I’ve seen both and she is not in either.

I called Mom to the window once to look, but by the time she’d got there, the girl and the light had vanished. It was almost as though she had never been there at all.

So strange that I am the only one to see her. I asked once if I had a twin sister, an identical one. Mom was not amused. “Oh, yes. Of course you do Sophie. We buried her in the bottom of the garden.” When she saw the look of horror on my face, she quickly added, “I was only joking, Soph. Of course not. There could never be more than one of you!” That’s the thing with my Mom, she does have a bit of a dark sense of humor.

I stand indoors and watch her for a while, swinging backwards and forwards. Her face, her arms, her white dress are all liberally sprinkled with the blue flecks from that revolving light that always accompanies her.

The temptation to go out and join her is so strong but I know that as soon as I put my hand on to the door-handle she will vanish; it will be as though she had never been there at all.

So long as I leave her, I can watch her for as many hours as I can stay awake. I can even pretend that I am her, sitting out there, swinging in the darkness with those sparkles all around me.

Is she my twin? Or maybe she comes from another world where she is a princess? And if she does, and if she’s me, I wonder, does that mean that I am a princess too?


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