Flash Fiction: Twinster Part V

Twinster Part V

by Sinmisola Ogúnyinka

Photo: The Aneke Twins Source: Bellanaija.com, 2017

Twinster I Link

Twinster II Link

Twinster III Link

Twinster IV Link

Daz ran to the door and blocked it with her body, crying so hard she couldn’t breathe. She gripped his face and blinded by her tears, felt his soak her hands.

“P–lease. P–lease. Let me tell you the truth.” She placed her head on his chest, sure she would suffocate if she couldn’t stop the tears. She breathed hard with her mouth.

Victor stood still. She knew he was giving her a last chance. If he walked out that door, she would never see him again.

“You remember how–that day you were so mad at me. I thought you’d leave me. But you stayed.” She searched out his face, but he stared above her head, his jaws twitching. “You chose to forgive me, darling,” she whispered. “And I am forever grateful to you. You gave me a second chance.”


Victor’s heart beat harder when Daz placed her head on it. He couldn’t look at her now. What else did she have to say? What more could she have done that she hadn’t already? Destiny died of a drug overdose in Daz’s house, and instead of telling the truth, she came to her house and swapped identity before she announced to the family what happened. He never knew she could be so bold. For two weeks she feigned mourning until that night when he wanted to make love to her.

“I was tired. I loved you more than my life, and I wanted you to love me the same.”

“You know I loved you the same, Daz,” he muttered.

He was tired too. The secrets would never end. There was no use fighting. For ten horrible years he hung on, hoping a day would come when he could walk out of his shadow and see sunlight again, with her in his arms. That day would never come because the shadows would never go away.

Daz cried. “I didn’t tell Mom I was Daz because I wanted to hurt us. I was dying!”

His head dropped to his chest, but her face was in his shirt. “Dying?”

“Inside,” she whispered. “I couldn’t take anymore, the fact that no one knew what happened. I wanted to confide in someone. I made her swear she’d tell no one.”

He groaned. “You had me.”

“But you had your theory and I didn’t want to make you believe something else. You had taken more than was fair!

“What are you talking about?” He raised her chin and stared into her beautiful brown eyes, now red, and dry, and puffy. “What theory?”

“I never told you what happened. You drew your conclusions.” She blinked but he held her chin in place, which made her unable to look away. “You said Destiny died of drug overdose and I put her in my clothes, and drove her out to crash in my car, then returned to your house and switched.”

He held her gaze. He was mad at the time. It was a theory that would fit a sociopath. Daz wasn’t it. “I know I stretched it a bit too far.”

“I was just–I just wanted someone to hear the truth. I didn’t want to defend myself to you. I was guilty already.” She closed her eyes. “But I am the victim here. Destiny didn’t plan to die, but to run away with a boy.” Her eyes popped open. “She wanted it to look like it was me who eloped.”

Victor swore. “She told you?” He could begin to see why she must have been so frustrated.

“She told me she just wanted one night with him. He’d pick her up at my house and drop her at hers, so I took her car and went to her house.” She shuddered. “You were going to be back late. She assured me she’d be home before I knew it.”

“Instead she wore your clothes, took your car and would have disappeared if there wasn’t a crash.” Destiny could do that, he knew. How wrong he had been about Daz.

Daz nodded. “They both died in the car. Burnt beyond recognition.” She exhaled. “She apparently left a note asking my forgiveness for taking my car. I found it in my closet later.”

“She was only sorry for taking your car?”

“You know, Destiny. Said she’d send me the gas refund.” Daz pressed her lips. “It was a joke to her. That she escaped, and I’d be stuck in her life without even consulting me first.”

“You poor soul.” Victor cupped her face with both hands. “I’m sorry I accused you.”

“You had no idea.”

He smoothed back her hair. “Forgive me, Daz. I have wronged you.”

She started to speak but a sniff behind him jolted them both. He turned and found Suzie Bariet standing in the middle of her office behind them, a little handkerchief in her hand, dabbing at her wet lids.

Victor gasped. “We asked you to excuse us!”

Suzie bit her lips. “I thought I could.”



About the Author

Sinmisola Ogúnyinka is a pastor’s wife, mother, writer and movie producer. She has a university degree in Economics and is a Craftsman of Jerry B. Jenkins’ former Christian Writers’ Guild. Sinmi, as she is fondly called, blogs, teaches writing, and writes. She also has a day job in customer service. Sinmi lives with her family in Philadelphia, PA.

You can connect with Sinmisola online at her blog, on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

You can read Sinmisola’s regular “Flash Fiction” column on the 4th Tuesday each month here at Pandora’s Box Gazette.

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