I want to make the world into something better so that he can be okay.

She has the majesty of hurricanes and explosions.

Every star has been set in the sky. We mistakenly think they were put there for us.

Her mind is a bird that's trapped inside her skull, flapping and thrashing, never breaking free.

I miss something I never even had.

And then I wonder, does my brother think of me this way? We entered this world together, one after the other, beats in a pulse. But I will be first to leave it. That's what I've been promised. When we were children, did he dare to imagine an empty space beside him where I then stood giggling, blowing soap bubbles through my fingers? When I die, will he be sorry that he loved me? Sorry that we were twins? Maybe he already is.

Good night, sweetheart," he says. "Good bye, sweetheart," I say. And it's so casual, so innocent that he doesn't suspect a thing.