Cotly Holar . District 10 . FIN

"They're coming for me- get them away- Sylvestre, please, get them away."

But he was gone, miles far from my fingertips, and where was he where was he where was he??? because he certainly wasn't here, or he would have answered when I called his name.

Work, he must be at work; that's where he is.

And so, jumping out of my cloth coffin, I wiggle my toes on the wooden floor and sigh, tip-toeing over to the door to blockade it with my body. He would be home soon enough, and if I put all of my might into it, I could possibly hold the monsters off for that long- they would scratch at the door and screech their terrible screeches, but maybe- just maybe- they would leave me alone. 

Minutes pass, and then hours before I stand again, and I feel the pain of negligence on my legs the moment I try placing any weight onto them. It's like a shattering feeling, but it subsides and I turn the knob of the door, my head peeking out like the tongue of a bird simply to check if the coast is clear.

From downstairs, I hear the voice of my brother. 

"4..."

"3..."

"2..."

"1..."

"Ready or not, here I come!"

But I am alone right now, not in the presence of the little boy who looks like me- same ashed brown hair and impeding grey eyes- speaks like me- same quiet voice, slightly less whispered and with a more forceful tone- and has almost the same body as me- lanky and tall, limbs too long and torso too thin. He lives with my mother and my older sister, who was once a boy, too, and it intrigues me that these voices seem so real even though they resonate from the past. 

After all, it's not like I'm 10 anymore.