Groups of Two

March 17th

Today is the beginning of the end. My mother said I was getting a bit “bloated” in the middle. She then continued to take away my cake at the end of her famous Thanksgiving dinner. I can’t keep this secret to myself any longer. All I know is that it will be killed.

I jump down the stairs, practically glowing with my newfound adulthood. Yesterday was probably the best day of my life and I had never wanted it to end. 

Dancing with my friends, blowing out eighteen candles, and having my first sip of champagne. My parents are normally very strict but my mom convinced my dad to let me have a tiny bit of fun. 

I go to hug my mom when I enter the kitchen, noting the trash sitting around everywhere. Picking up some paper plates on the way, I kiss my dad’s cheek as he cooks up some bacon. 

“Sorry about the mess, mom,” I say, not really sorry though, knowing that I’ll get swept up in the cleaning as well. 

“Hey! What about me?” My dad looks flabbergasted, “You think she is the only one who will be cleaning this up?” 

“Oh shut up, honey.” My mom laughs, blowing a strand of hair out from in front of her eyes. “You know that by noon, you’ll be asleep again on the couch and I’ll have to clean you up too!” 

My dad goes over to her and hugs her from the back, and then spins her out and they start an impromptu tango dance in the kitchen. Rolling my eyes and wrinkling my nose, I walk into the living room. Looking at the photos on the wall, I get a bit sad about having to move out of the house soon. I’ll be leaving everything behind. Going to NYU and becoming an Operations research analyst has always been my dream. My friends laughed when I told them, not understanding why I would want to do so much math. I shrugged at them, not really knowing why I love numbers so much, but if I had to guess I would say because I like patterns, I like when things even out. It’s the opposite of me. I am, of course, the only kid in my family, with mu parents making us a group of three. I was born in July, the seventh month, on the thirteenth at 1:17 in the morning. Everything about me is an odd number, and there is a reason people call it an “odd” number.

I look at the pictures again, wishing for the millionth time I had siblings. But I know that even if my mother had another kid, she would be killed and so would my little sister or brother. That’s the problem with the way the world has become. The Earth can no longer sustain all of the people on it. Every single one of the countries in the world came together to say that only one kid is allowed per family, and any extras will be killed, along with their mothers for making the mistake of allowing another one. I never thought it was fair that only the woman would be at fault when there is always another person involved but it’s not like I could ever change anything. 

I turn my back from the pictures and walk back into the kitchen, my parents once again at the separate cooking areas. I pick up plates and cups as I walk in. 2, 4, 6 plates and 2, 4, 6, 8, 9 cups. I quickly pick up another cup to even it out. Dumping them into the recycling bin, I get the broom and dustpan, satisfied with the way the two things help each other. I stand back up after sweeping to see my mother and father in the back of the kitchen, stealing little glances my way and talking in nervous whispers. I look back and forth between them, confusion evident on my face. “What is it?” I ask, my voice small. 

My dad is about to start explaining when the doorbell rings. He smiles nervously and points at the door, “I should probably get that.” My dad speed walks over and opened the large door. 

Mom bites her lip as the door hits the wall, sending an echo through the kitchen. I walk into the hall, Mom on my heal at the same time as the guy in the doorway says “Where is your wife and daughter?” It was from Mr. Ryan. He has been the police officer at my high school for as long as anyone can remember. Why is he here? And why does he want my mom and me? 

“We’re right here.” My mom whispers. I have never seen her this afraid. When the officer turns back to my dad, Mom shoves something hard into my hand. I look down at it. It’s a plain and unsuspecting little black and white notebook. I send her a confused glance. She doesn’t look at me, keeping her eyes on the police officer as she whispers one little word into my ear. Run.

I look at her, but knowing that she is deadly serious, I back out of the room, being careful to look inconspicuous. Mr. Ryan finally speaks again just as I’m able to slide behind the archway into the kitchen. “Mrs. Perrin, you are hereby tried for high treason against the White House and the whole of the United States of America.” A small gasp makes its way out of my mouth. My mother? A criminal? There is no way. She is the kindest and most loving person ever. 

I look at the notebook in my hand, my eyes drifting back up to look at the screen door in front of me. It’s the only other way out of the house, and I’m about to leave through it, following my mother’s command when curiosity overcomes me. I peek out from behind a pastel green wall as Officer Ryan something that makes my heart stop and chills my blood. 

“Your daughter, Dove Lili Perrin, is your second child. Your firstborn, Callum Hunter, has lived with your Aunt Lillith who had no kids of her own. Because of this, both you and your secondborn have been sentenced to death under the population control law.” There is a pause before he continues, “Where did your daughter go?” 

Too long. I’ve stayed here too long. I try to open the door as quietly as possible, but the hinges let out a squeal. Jumping through the doorway, I hear Officer Ryan say on what must be some kind of radio, “The daughter is running away. Gone through the back door.” Not waiting for him to say anything else, I race out of the door. I’m done with being curious. Now any misstep could get me caught and killed. No doubt my mom will die today, and me too if I don’t do exactly as she said. I run through the woods in our backyard. I sprint, not caring or even noticing the ache in my legs. 

Finally reaching the other side of the woods, I step back into the sunlight. It is a very hot July day and I have already sweat so much that I feel lightheaded. I look around me, trying to see what I can use to my advantage. A car whizzes by as I stand on the side of the highway, my lungs gasping for breath. I’m too much out in the open, where a cop car could pass at any moment and recognize me. I back up into the woods and almost scream when I hear a voice behind me.

“Come on! We need to go right now.” A frantic voice almost shouts. I turn around and come face to face with a boy who must be around my age. He’s cute I guess but definitely not my type. 

“Who are you?” I ask, my voice filled with fear. “What do you want?” My words tumble out of my mouth fast, slurring together in the midst of my exhaustion. 

“You can trust me. And I go by CJ.” He grabs my arm when I start to fall, my legs suddenly giving way as a wave of black covers me. Lowering me to the ground safely, he says, “Don’t worry. It’ll be fast.”  

I want to ask him how he knew where I was, who is he really, how could I trust him, and what’ll be fast, but I’m already fast asleep.

My eyes flutter open and I suck in a deep breath of stuffy air. At first, I think that I must still be asleep because it is pitch black but then I hear my mother’s voice. “She’s awake. Oh, thank goodness.” 

“Mom?” My voice sounds weird as it echos throughout the room. “Mom?” 

“I’m right here, sweetie.” She sniffles and then lets it all loose. Before I know it, I’m crying too, tears racing down my face, equal parts confusion, and regret. “I’m so sorry that this happening to you. You don’t deserve it. Did you get a chance to look at the journal?” 

Oh, that’s what the notebook was. “Oh. No. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, honey. I can just tell you.” She takes a deep shuddering breath before she starts. “I was a newlywed to your father when I got pregnant with you. We decided not to get any scans or anything before you were born but when I finally figured out what was happening, I got in touch with my Aunt Lillith. She agreed to help me. When I went into labor, I got my answer.” She looked at me in the dark. I look back at her, my eyes have adjusted to the lack of light, knowing that what she says next is the reason all this is happening to me. I want her to say that this is all just a dream, that none of this is real but I know that that isn’t going to happen. She continues in a shaky voice. “I had twins. A beautiful baby boy and a beautiful baby girl. I had a choice to make, which one I would raise. You were so cute and looked exactly like me, so I made the terrible choice I had to make and gave my son off to my Aunt. You were the second-born as well, which meant that if they ever found out, it would be you they would want dead. I tried so hard to keep you safe, but I’m just realizing that I also kept you from living life and I am truly sorry for that. We never told you because we were afraid that you would tell someone. We should have trusted you, and now you are going to pay for the fault of no one. I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

I can barely even hear my mother anymore. I have a twin. I am not just a group of an odd number, there are two of us kids, in a family of four. But, I realize, he was never a part of our family. There are no pictures of him on our wall, no birthdays celebrated together, and no laughs shared at dad’s terrible jokes. I have a twin. I wonder if he knows I exist. Whether or not he was ever told by Lillith. Will he mourn the end of my life? Will he hate his real mother for giving him up? I hope not. 

I’m about to reassure my mother when double doors open, light streaming in and blinding me. A shadow enters the cavern, followed by a voice. “It’s time.” 

I look at my mother one more time before two other men yank me up to my feet. “Mom!” I yell. She reaches her hand out to me and I grab hold. “I love you, Mom!” 

I barely hear her response, her voice catching as she says I love you back. The shadow man steps forward and cuts our hands apart while we are dragged into the light. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my hands together as white flashes inside my eye sockets. I feel at peace as I am dragged to center stage. I love you, Mom.