By silence bound

(Lorna)1

(Lorna. Look at me, Lorna…)2

I pretend not to notice, not to understand, but I can feel Lana’s hazel eyes on me, blank; they are identical to mine, as is everything else about her features, but hers lack the anxious gleam I sometimes catch sight of on the rare occasions I look at myself in the mirror. My heart always quickens to see it, and I look away, hoping fervently that Lana did not notice the one aspect that would mark us as different, physically. But she always does… should she look now, it would be no exception.3

I lower my head further, trying to conceal my eyes, as I try to write the answer to the geometry problem before me. But the equation seems nothing but senseless chicken scratch before me now, and the answer I had just been so sure of had slipped from my mind…4

(Lorna… look at me.)5

She does not speak out loud- but she does not need to. I know even without looking at her what she wants of me…6

I am sitting on the floor of our bedroom, and Lana is on our double bed, facing me cross-legged. If I should turn to look at her, I knew her face would be bland, impassive- but I dare not look. Whatever lack of emotion there was, I knew it was a lie. If I obeyed her, turned to look at her, I would see her anger, her wanting, even if she showed me none of this. She did not have to show me- I would know, as I always had. And then, I would not be able to stop myself from obeying her.7

But for how much longer could I keep up this feeble resistance? Could I bear to deny her for much longer, when I knew- I knew…8

I could not think it, dared not, for even in not truly seeing me, Lana would understand my meaning. She nearly always knew even what I concealed from her, or tried to. There were no secrets between us- nor should there be, as she often reminded me. We were different, special, from other sisters. We were twins, and we needed no one save each other.9

I could not forget this, even had I wanted to- which, to my fear and shame, I sometimes did. For even though I loved Lana as no one else, and needed and feared her both, her disapproval, her anger and love for me, I found myself thinking sometimes how life would be if she were not my twin- if we had been born only sisters, or girls of the same age. It was a frightening thought- but somehow, I knew dimly that had that happened, our lives- my life- would have been much easier…10

But that had not occurred, and now could never be. Lana was my reflection, in more ways than our appearance… she brought forth in me what I had vainly attempted to conceal from the world, where only she could see it and share it. It seemed in those moments that what she reflected from me was her as well, that there was no difference between us- we were one person in split form.11

But this was not true, and I was never more aware of this than at times like this. Lana was not me… and I couldn’t do to her what she could to me. I could not reflect her deepest parts, let alone set claim to them as my own. 12

(Lorna).13

Though I still lower my eyes, and Lana still remains silent, motionless, on the bed, I can tell she is growing impatient, angry. I feel myself weakening further, resistance faltering… I know I will not hold out much longer. I am afraid to- and even as my pulse sputters, I know I also am not sure I even want to. Lana is my twin, and I cannot deny her for long.14

Lana hates when I do this, isolate myself from her in some small way. It is not doing homework that sits ill with her, for she does what is needed to pass- what is needed to remain in the same grade I am, the same special class that provides no challenges for either of us, but keeps us safe- keeps us together. It is the fact that I am doing it alone, doing it without her, that she resents. Normally I would acquiesce to her with no protest- but today something in me refuses, something makes me futilely persist in ignoring her.15

My stomach begins to twist itself violently, and my hands are shaking, barely able to hold my pencil, let alone write. Even with my back turned away from Lana, she is all I can think of, as is her intent.16

(Lorna!)17

And then she said it aloud, her voice soft, reproachful, and yet somehow forceful, insistent. “Lorna.”18

I cannot continue, I can no longer keep myself from her… heart hammering, swallowing hard with a harshness that momentarily stuck in my throat, I turned to her, my lips pressed together as I struggled to keep my thoughts from her view. It need not have mattered, for I knew very well how very little I could keep Lana from seeing.19

Her face, as I had known, was still, but I knew she was satisfied- she had, with a bit more effort than usual, extracted the obedience from me she needed. 20

(Put that stuff down, Lorna. Come here beside me.)21

Wordlessly I set down my things- the paper and textbook, the pencil- and stood, my movements fumbling, unsure. My eyes darted to her, but she was not angry with me, as I had feared- only amused. Amused, and triumphant…22

When I sat by Lana on our bed, a careful distance apart, she smiled, her mouth turning up only slightly. As I looked at her quickly, my hands twisting in my lap, she covered them with her own hand, stopping their movement. Looping her other arm around my chest and shoulders, she pulled me back gently, leaning me against her. Still holding me to her with one arm, she touched my hair with her right hand. There would be no consequences for my disobedience today- Lana forgave me.23

I lay against her unresisting, letting her touch me gently. My heartbeat had slowed a bit, but I was glad Lana was not looking at me, for fear she might read the confliction in my eyes… it felt nice, to have my sister- my twin- touching me, to know she wasn’t angry, but there was as strange sadness in my chest… almost a bitterness I could not shove away.24

(Michelle)25

Even now, so many years later, when I look at my daughters- the twins, as everyone in their lives always calls them collectively- I find myself thinking back to the day they were born. They were so beautiful then, so perfectly formed, little crumpled faced beings with dark patches of hair- even then I could not tell them apart. I've often wondered over the years whether Lorna is actually Lana, or Lana, Lorna- or even worse, more disturbing to me as their mother, whether it really matters.26

Nearly 18 years later, and the twins are still beautiful, with their long wavy hair and slim figures, btu I can still never be sure, even now, which is Lana and which is Lorna. If you think this makes me feel good as a mother, you've never had children.27

But the twins have never, since they were toddlers, made me feel like an adequate mother. For they have almost ignored me entirely for nearly all of their lives- only seeming to turn to me for their physical needs. It is completely bewildering- almost frightening. Certainlly unlike any mother/daughter relationship I have ever witnessed or experienced before.28

But then, neither have I ever witnessed a sister relationship like my daughters share either.29

Even as infants, the twins seemed different from other babies. They were so still, so quiet, crying only when they needed changed or fed. They did not seem very needy or curious about the world- in fact, they didn't seem interested in much beyond each other. Even at under a year old, they seemed perfectly content to be put in a playpen or crib alone together- they seemed already to be intuitively, to know and be completely fascinated with each other.30

Because they seemed so quiet, grew and developed so normally, gave me such little trouble, I did not worry, and nor did Harrison. If anything for the first year or two I felt blessed. How many mothers could say their children rarely cry or even seemed to want much from them? How many could say they never, at any point in their childhood, had trouble leaving them with a babysitter because of the child's seperation anxiety? For the twins never minded being seperated from me- it seemed anyone holding them was okay, as long as they could still see each other. If one person took up the other child where they could not see each other, however, one or both would raise up a fuss until they were brought back into each other's view.31

I thought it was sweet at first, even funny. "Maybe we'll get lucky and those two won't have sibling rivalry or squabbling," I remember telling my husband when the twins were about a year old. "If they're so stuck on each other now..."32

Harrison had laughed, saying, "I wouldn't count on it, Michelle. It's kind of hard to gauge kids' teenaged futures when they're still in diapers."33

"Well we can hope," I had said flippantly. But the strange thing is, my prediction from their infancy, half joking as it was, has turned into a sort of prophecy. For the twins have never once, not in front of Harrison or me at any rate, fought or seemed jealous or even annoyed with each other. To be honest, it scares me sometimes, to watch my own girls. I find myself almost praying to see them annoyed with each other, to see one pinch or shove the other, or even shoot a cross look.34

But mostly I pray for them to argue out loud, disagree... just to speak. For in nearly 18 years, I have never once heard the twins speak to me.35

(Lorna)36

My earliest memories are back from when I was maybe two, one and a half years old, something like that. In them, I'm always with Lana, of course- all my memories involve me and Lana.37

Even then there was something about her- about us- that made it impossible for me to pull away, drew me to her. I remember as a toddler standing up, beginning to waddle around aimlessly, then stopping, turning around and shuffling back to where Lana was sitting, watching me. I've heard out mother say before that we learned everything seemingly at the exact same time, as if we were teaching each other- or perhaps, one of us delayed our learning until the other could learn as well.38

I have two really clear memories from when we were that age, maybe two, that, combined together, sealed or at least foresaw our future. Both let me know that my feelings of our current relationship, its strength and the length of time it has been the way it is now, are not exaggerated in my mind.39

In the first memory, we are probably a little younger than two, maybe 18 months, and our parents have dropped us off in the nursery during the service. One of the women there takes Lana, and the other takes me, carrying me over to a table with little puzzles and toys.40

The other woman was still holding Lana by the door, and she could not seem me. Suddenly she started to scream and cry, kicking and shrieking shrilly, in a kind of panic, I guess. Hearing Lana crying, I remember getting scared and starting to cry too. The ladies must have thought we were too upset to leave our parents, because they joggled us around to distract us. But Lana kept screaming frantically, so I was crying too...41

It took them a while to think of bringing Lana to me... and as soon as she saw me, she stopped crying, perfectly content again. And so did I.42

My other memory we were a little older, two or so. And I remember Lana and I were in the kitchen in our high chairs. Our mother had given us juice boxes, and I didn't want juice- I wanted milk. I remember sitting there thinking that, looking at our mom and my juice and not drinking it, but she didn't understand. So I started putting my lips together, and I started to make the "m" sound- I was trying to say milk.43

And I almost did. I almost said it- the first word I would have spoken. But for some reason, I looked at Lana first- and she was staring at me, giving me a childish version of the look she gives me so often now... a look that tells me to stop, to watch her only.44

And I did. Even then I stopped, because I knew Lana wanted me to.45

Of course, I have spoken since. But only to Lana- only when we are alone. That's the way she wants it.46

Sometimes I can't help but wonder why... why does it have to be that way, only Lana and me? She says we need no others, only each other. And sometimes I feel that way too, feel special, superior. I have Lana. That is enough.47

But sometimes, I almost feel like maybe it isn't. Or else why would she have to correct me so often? Why would I even try to resist her?48

(Michelle)49

By the time they were two, the twins had done all the other things normal for their age- walk and potty-trained, meeting all the motor skills they should by their age. They seemed bright enough, although it unsettled me how they seemed to learn every new skill on the same day, about the same time. But of course, I told myself, I had never raised twins or even known any well- that may very well be normal.50

But when they were two and a half and still had never uttered a word where I could hear it- nothing, not even baby talk- I began to worry. This, I knew, was not normal- especially considering that the twins were intelligent in every other way.51

I talked to Harrison about it, and he agreed- although this didn’t mean much, I knew. The girls had unsettled him since they were very young, though he denied it- I could see it in his eyes when he looked at them, the way he avoided handling them and did so stiffly when he had to. I had attributed this to his being uncomfortable with being a new father at first- but now, I wonder if he saw something I didn’t.52

So I had taken the twins to the doctor, and he pronounced them healthy and of above average intelligence. “Some children merely develop at a slower rate with certain skills, Mrs. Gregory,” he assured me. “Especially twins. I wouldn’t worry, they’ll speak when they’re ready to.”53

I took them home and repeated his words to Harrison, trying not to worry. But as time passed, and the twins still said nothing- seemed to have no need or desire to say anything- I did.54

The girls were always together, always- and they still never fought over toys, never competed for my attention. In fact, they seemed disdainful or it- they seemed to be completely satisfied with each other. I watched them sometimes, and they seemed not to notice, so wrapped up were they in each other. They would just look at each other sometimes, and it seemed they were communicating without words- having an entire conversation, even with their faces as empty and emotionless as dolls’.55

That was another thing that scared me… very rarely did my daughters show much expression on their faces. Occasionally they smiled at each other, but mostly they seemed solemn, if not blank. It’s an eerie thing to consistently observe in a three-year-old. These were children who seemed to completely skip the terrible twos- their only tantrums occurred when they were separated from each other.56

Again, I tried over and over to reassure myself. The girls were okay-the doctor had said so. They were independent, shy- and as twins, naturally close. They had no need for words, because of their extraordinary closeness. Surely as they grew older this would change. Of course they would talk when they were ready to.57

But when they were four years old and still as silent as ever, I began to really grow anxious. They barely even acknowledged Harrison or me, accepting what we would give them without really asking for it or seeming to care. 58

As babies and toddlers I had dressed the twins differently, for they looked and behaved so similarly there was no way I could tell them apart otherwise. But at four, they began to refuse to do this. If they were wearing different clothes, both twins would strip them off and run around naked. 59

At first this frustrated me to no end. I assumed the twins were going through a rebellious stage and I’d stuff them back into their clothes, only for them to take them off a few minutes later. This went on for days, until finally I asked them aloud why they were doing it. 60

In one of the rare instances where the twins communicated with me in a direct way- it was Lana, I believe, though I can never really be sure- she went over to their dresser, pulling out a shirt like the one Lorna was wearing. She held it up to her chest, looking from the shirt to Lorna to me- her intent making it clear. They wanted to dress alike.61

Of course, I was less than thrilled. I already had a hard enough time telling them apart without them dressing the same. But they insisted, and there seemed to be no other option if I didn’t want to force them in and out of clothes all day.62

I can see now how very strange the girls often were, how- as much as I hated to say this about my children- disturbing… but at the same time, I felt like a terrible mother to think such things, even to myself. I even began to deny their strangeness fiercely- certain it was my fault, the result of something I had done as a parent. Surely they could not help it… and so I allowed it, made excuses for it, for as long as I was able.63

And then, when the twins were about five, I became pregnant with Katelyn, my third daughter. When she was born, we were so busy with her that we let the twins’ strange silence and clinging to each other continue even more without thought or comment. I know now that was very wrong- the longer any behavior is allowed to continue, the more tenaciously it takes hold.64

The twins didn’t seem jealous of Katelyn- they seemed barely aware of her at all. I tried to set aside time for them during her naps and sleep time, knowing this was something a mother should do, but they seemed neither to want or need it, and it made me tired and anxious when I failed to connect with them. I let it slide more and more- and they grew more remote from me, even closer to each other.65

I’m ashamed to say it, but I was relieved and grateful for Katelyn for more than her own sake. It was thrilled because Katelyn was not like the twins. She was a singleton- it was only her, and she bonded to me, responded to me, as they never had. She met all the normal time limits for development- including speaking- and she was a noisy, expressive child, laughing and crying often. I loved her more completely, more fully, ashamed as I was to think it… simply because she was normal. Average…66

As Katelyn grew, seeming at a year old far more of a real child than her nearly six-year-old sisters, the contrast between them was only more obvious. Already she could walk and talk- and at nearly six, the twins still had yet to say a word. And still I tried to tell myself everything was okay, despite what my mother, brother, acquaintances, and Harrison might say. I couldn’t allow myself to think otherwise. They were bad or disrespectful- if anything, the twins were too well-behaved and self controlled. What did it matter if they didn’t’ speak?67

It took being called in by the girls’ kindergarten teacher to really face up to the fact that something was wrong- something had gone wrong long ago. At six, it was not normal for intelligent children to tune out nearly all of the world, to still be silent. It is, in fact, nearly as far from normal as a child can be.68

(Harrison)69

It sounds horrible to say about your kids, but ever since the twins were two or three, it’s been hard for me to love them. I’m not proud of this- they’re my own daughters, and I’m so uncomfortable around them I avoid them as much as possible.70

They’re- it’s just that no child has ever behaved as my own daughters do that I have seen- certainly no sisters. I have never met any nearly 18-year-old girls who are perfectly capable of speaking, but refuse to. Nor have I ever seen two sisters- yes, even twins, regardless of whatever Michelle used to say. And even she, after their first six years, was finally forced to admit that something was wrong.71

Unlike Michelle, I can usually tell the twins apart, even with the identical clothes and hairstyles they insist upon. They want to be like clones, it often seems to me- single person split into two physical beings. They want this- but they cannot quite achieve it, not completely. Once in a while, I can see past it- the sameness- enough to tell who is who- or at least make a good estimate.72

Lana and Lorna are both very good at that infuriatingly empty-eyed, slack-faced look- a look devoid of any emotion or signs that there is a single intelligent thought running through their heads. I often wonder if they do this simply to be infuriating, or if it’s all part of their game, their need to be so similar. It’s easier to be alike if you only have one facial expression- one which shows nothing.73

Sometimes when I look at Lana- especially when she is looking at Lorna, and does not notice me watching- I see something glinting briefly in her eyes- something that seems darker than her bland expression, almost sly… she looks at Lorna in a way that seems to me, even with her careful hooded gaze, to be almost commanding. As if they share a secret that Lana has ordered her to preserve. Even a small child, when it was harder for me to find ways to distinguish them, Lana sometimes had a furtiveness about her, something I can’t explain. I often felt- and still feel- that if Lana was not Lorna’s twin, that Lorna would speak and act like any other girl. I think somehow it is Lana who keeps her from doing so.74

Lorna, when I recognize her as herself, sometimes seems to have a subtle difference in her eyes from the passive, Lana-twin expression. She seems sometimes to have more of a fragile aura about her than her sister- a way of looking at her that seems almost searching, as if she is waiting to hear… what? 75

I did not feel as uncomfortable around Lorna as I did with Lana- though her eerie silence and slack expression still made me uneasy, I never go the prickling, edgy sensation I usually did with Lana- not unless both girls were together. Lorna seemed to me to be the more passive of the two, the recipient and product of Lana’s will. But why would she go along with it, if this was true? What could make a child shut down into such a state merely at the will of her sister? And what kind of sister would wish such a thing?76

It shames me to know that I think of my daughters as abnormal- to be honest, as freaks. But I do… and as hard as I try not to, as hard as I try to love the twins in spite of what I see as their defects, I’m not sure I quite succeed. Do you really love someone when you avoid them, try not to not look at or touch them as much as possible? Do you really love a child when all you can think of is what is wrong with them- when you can’t accept them the way they are? Can you love your child when you are almost repulsed by them. Sometimes, something about the way Lana holds herself, the way her hand lingers on Lana’s arm, sends chills down my spine. ..77

Unlike Michelle, I had never been quite able to convince myself that the twins were okay. Even as infants I always felt there was something different about them- strange. I could never say it to Michelle, of course, or anyone else- what kind of dad thinks his infant daughters are too odd to want to be around them? But even Michelle grew worried enough to take them to the doctor when they were two- and I think his pronouncement of their health both relieved and shamed her. He had given her hope- but he had also reinforced her fear that she was a bad mother for not bonding with the twins enough. I think his words to her, meant to be reassuring, made her feel that any failure on the part of the twins to seem like other children was her fault as a mother, since he had proclaimed them healthy.78

Now, of course, I wish Michelle had taken the twins to a mental doctor rather than a physical one. His proclamation may have been quite different- and may have saved us years of frustration, grief, years of wasted money and effort. Not to mention that if we had done something when they were still so young to break up the twins’ hold on each other, then all those years they might have been able to be like other girls.79

I remember one evening, after sitting at dinner with Michelle and the girls when they were about four, I had been so thoroughly shaken I had to speak with Michelle about it. As the twins had sat across from us at the table, I had tried not to look at them, tried to talk to Michelle and block them from my mind, but the usual meal scenario proved too much for me to do that particular day.80

It was not that the twins were doing anything stranger than usual that day- but I think that usual there is the key word. It think it was the accumulation of events that made me realize that we had a problem. 81

The girls were, as I said, sitting across from us side by side, wearing identical outfit. They were eating very slowly, as if lifting utensils to their mouths and chewing were very complicated maneuvers, and even their hands lifting and jaws working seemed as though they were trying to synchronize them; one twin’s movements were slightly behind the others. They did all this without looking at each other, staring straight ahead at Michelle and me, but not really seeming to be looking at me either. Michelle addressed them separately, then jointly, trying to appeal to them, get them to nod or shake their head- or at least look at her, focus on her. Getting them to speak to her, I think she realized, was about as likely to occur as getting the Niagara Falls to stop flowing upon a spoken word.82

It wasn’t anything unusual- the twins side by side, zombie-faced, as Michelle almost desperately begged them to respond. But it was that day that it finally sunk into me that even if this kind of behavior was usual for us, it would be downright frightening to the parents of any normal child.83

I spoke to Michelle that night, right after she had put the twins to bed. I didn’t know what else I could do to give myself any peace of mind.84

“Michelle,” I began slowly as I came up behind her in the kitchen, where she was loading the dishwasher- admittedly probably not the best times to choose to confront someone, I’ll admit, but I was in too restless a mindset to care. “Michelle, I- we need to talk about the twins.”85

Michelle turned sharply, her face already defensive. I should have known better than to continue in the manner that I was then- it was obvious she was not in the mood to listen reasonably- but of course, when put in situations like that, no one usually does the sensible thing.86

“They’re fine, Harrison,” she snapped- which told me right away that their welfare had been gnawing at her mind as well.87

“Michelle, they’re four and they still don’t’ talk,” I said tensely, already blowing my self-vow to be calm and reasonable. “That is not fine.”88

“There is nothing wrong!” Michelle said fiercely, turning to face me. “The doctor said they were normal there’s nothing wrong with them physically! They can talk- they’re just not ready to.”89

“When will they be ready to, Michelle?” I asked, my voice rising. “They’re four now- what if they’re not talking at five, when they start school? What if they’re not ready at ten, twenty? What if they just decide they never want to talk at all? Because maybe their voices wouldn’t sound exactly alike, or they couldn’t speak the words at the same moment-“90

“Shut up,Harrison!” Michelle hissed, her cheeks burning. She glanced around quickly, as though seeing if the twins had heard, and I saw her chin was shaking. But I didn’t care- I was wound up now, had to make all my points as fast as I thought them.91

“There is something wrong. The doctor-“92

“The doctor said they’re fine!” Michelle interrupted hotly, fists clinched at her side. “He said that twins can be slower at that kind of thing- that doesn’t mean they’re stupid! He said they’re normal- NORMAL!”93

“That was when they were two, Michelle,” I said quietly, trying not to calm down, to lower the thudding of my heart in my chest. “it might still be normal for two year old twins to not talk. But I know it isn’t for four year olds- and you know it too. And I don’t think they’re stupid- not at all. And that’s what worries me the most. The twins aren’t refusing to talk because they can’t. They’re not talking because they don’t want to.”94

Michelle’s breathing was shallow and audible, her flushed face pinched. She was still glaring at me hostilely, but I saw the fear glinting in her eyes. I knew she understood perfectly well what I was saying- and as much as it scared her, she agreed. 95

“They’re just shy,” she replied finally, and her voice was hoarse, almost cracking. “They’re only four, and they’re shy. You don’t have to attack them, like they’re- like they’re dangerous or- or unnatural, or something….”96

“But they do act unnaturally,” I heard myself saying to her in a tone that was distinctly too heated to use wisely. “Sometimes I think they’re insane, that that is what is wrong with them. “97

Michelle blew up then, and I guess it’s not hard to see why. I had gone on too strongly, ramming too hard against her fragile shield of denial.98

“They’re your daughters, Harrison, your daughters!” she shrieked. “How could you say that about your own daughters! Why can’t you love them like they deserve, you bastard?”99

The rest of the conversation gave way to our accusations and Michelle’s tears, and we eventually dropped the subject, avoiding it for a long while after. But every time I looked at the twins, their oddness loomed in my mind, and I continued to wonder if they were insane.100

(Lorna)101

I think I was about five when our sister Katelyn was born. I know we hadn’t started school, because our father had to take off a few days from work to stay with us while our mother was in the hospital.102

She was this tiny scrunched up bald thing, all pasty and red, not cute at all like babies in diaper commercials. She screamed and hollered all the time, even at night, and constantly wet herself or stank. Our mother was tired all the time from running around doing things for Katelyn- I noticed this dimly even then.103

But still they loved her, our parents- they would smile and coo at her, saying how beautiful she was and how sweet. I didn’t understand it at all- she seemed anything but beautiful or sweet to me.104

I was not supposed to be interested in Katelyn, I knew. I was supposed to be around her like the way we usually were with our parents- not acknowledging her existence. But I found myself, when Lana was stepping away briefly or looking elsewhere, glancing at Katelyn quickly, unable to help myself. She was so loud that it was almost impossible to ignore her. I remember wondering how anything so little cold be so loud, and thinking she looked kind of like ET.105

It was only a matter of time before Lana caught me looking at her one time, when I was not quick enough to turn my eyes back to her. I remember how annoyed she was, how angry, even at five years old.106

“Don’t look at the baby,” she had hissed- she never said her name, only ‘the baby.’ Even now she calls her only ‘the girl’.107

“If you look at the baby, it only makes it think it’s okay to cry,” she told me. “And why are you looking at it anyway? Why do you want to look at it? Don’t look at it- look at me. I’m your twin- she’s only a baby.”108

Lana wanted me to pretend the baby wasn’t there- maybe, she implied, it would go away then. Or at least we would stop thinking about it.109

But the baby was so loud, cried so much, that sometimes I couldn’t help it and would have to look. I tried really hard not to- I would stand there by Lana with my small body rigid, teeth gritted as I tried not to turn my head, tried to keep my eyes unfocused. But sometimes that proved impossible, and I would have to turn to look at Katelyn, especially if our mother was not in the room.110

When I did that, Lana would immediately do something to regain my attention- turn toward me sharply, or call out to me silently, with the connection we’ve shared as long as I can remember. If both failed to bring me snapping to her side, then she would touch me with light but meaningful pressure- this was usually enough to convey to me the seriousness of my lapse. She would only speak aloud to me as a last resort, and then only if no one else was in the room. All it took to grab my attention and make me penitent in a hurry was to hear her saying in her quiet way, “Lorna…”111

I would turn to her, and first I would still see the baby in my mind, even if I did not want to any longer. But Lana’s eyes would meet mine, bearing into them intently, until they were all I could see… it was not necessary for her to speak again, even silently. All she had to do was look at me, and eventually, her eyes would be all I could see. Katelyn’s voice would fade away in my ears, and Lana, her face, her every gesture, were all I could see or respond to. That was what she liked, what she wanted.112

Lana liked Katelyn’s birth, even if she didn’t actually like or acknowledge Katelyn, wished she wasn’t there to distract me from her. Our parents were both so busy with her now that they left us to ourselves pretty much- where we could have all the more control over our lives.113

I told you we don’t need them, Lana conveyed to me silently, triumphantly, nearly every day. We don’t need anyone, only us…
(Harrison)114

I remember that one of the chief things I felt during the first year or two of Katelyn’s life was an enormous sense of relief. My younger daughter’s utter averageness made me feel validated as a father in a way I never had with the twins. Even her screaming and endless demands, her incessant babbling and sticky-fingered grasping secretly thrilled me. It showed me she was thinking and feeling, that she noticed me and her surroundings. Her facial expressions delighted me, because the reassured me she was normal.115

Consequently, I felt for Katelyn what I had never felt for the twins, as much as I tried. I loved her wholly and easily, and wanted to be affectionate with her, whereas with the twins I had to force myself to attempt to interact with them. Katelyn felt like my child- really my child, rather than some strange mute being who neither saw or loved me.116

Michelle must have noticed this- she could not help but see how different Katelyn was from the twins, how much more involved I was with her and her life. It should have told her more plainly than ever how strange they were, how wrongly they behaved. But if anything else, she seemed to cling more tenaciously than ever to her conviction that the twins were okay- only shy, of course, as though shyness equaled muteness.117

A few days or so after we brought the twins home, I began to notice that the twins weren’t quite as oblivious to her as they seemed. Or at least, Lorna wasn’t. Sometimes I would catch her looking over when Katelyn cried. There would be an odd glint in her eye that betrayed something she had never shown before- interest? Annoyance? Fear?118

I ignored it, for it always faded, and Lorna would turn back to Lana quickly. But that slight flicker had caught my attention- and, as small as it was, it gave me hope. Maybe there was a way I could get through to Lorna, if not Lana. 119

I began to look for the expression to return in her eyes, when I was with them. I tried to be subtle about it, shift my eyes only slightly toward them, so as not to call attention to the fact that I was watching them. And once in a while, I would notice the same look in Lorna’s eyes I had seen before…120

I also noticed that each time that look crossed Lorna’s eyes, she would quickly look back at Lana, something dark, almost fearful in her posture, her expression, passing so quickly I could not be sure I hadn’t imagined it. But if my impression was correct, Lorna was afraid for Lana to see her watching the baby. Even I could see how disturbing that was… even as a working man who saw them only mornings, evenings, and weekends. This only served to frustrate me- for Michelle, who was with them all day, would not or could not see this too.121

At last, a day arrived where I had an opportunity to do something about it, to break through at least one twin’s shell, using Katelyn. And I almost succeeded, think I could have changed the course of our future… if it hadn’t been for Lana. But then, most of their past would have been different, I’m sure, if it weren’t for Lana.122

I was walking around the kitchen in the evening with Katelyn, jiggling her around and talking to her in the foolish sing song voice even men usually adopt around babies. She had been crying, but had settled down to hiccups, nearly asleep. I was trying to lull her off while Michelle showered.123

Suddenly I heard a slight noise and turned. Lorna- I believed it was Lorna- was standing in the kitchen doorway, holding onto it with an awkwardness most unlike her.124

As I looked at her carefully, I realized how rare it was for me to see her without her twin. I did not know then where Lana was- it this was indeed Lorna. But I remember in that moment feeling exceedingly glad she was alone.125

As I looked at her, Lorna did not quickly look away, as she usually would have, nor did she quickly switch off her expression into a blank one. But rather she looked back at me steadily, her eyes flickering to the baby in my arms. In that moment she seemed very small and young, barely older than Katelyn- much more like a real child than I had ever seen her as. 126

There was hesitation in her eyes, but also a sadness, a hunger… she seemed to badly want something she knew she could not have. It was a poignant moment- one that seemed tenuous with unspoken sentiments.127

I thought quickly, trying to decide what to do. If I spoke too hastily, she might bolt… but if I was too careful, she might leave, and this opportunity would flee with her.128

I smiled at her, trying to catch her eye. “Hi, Lorna,” I said quietly. “You are Lorna, right?”129

She nodded wordlessly, which in and of itself was an accomplishment.130

“Come here, Lorna,” I said in the same soft tone. “Come see your new sister. She’s loud, isn’t she? Kind of funny-looking too.”131

Lorna looked at me, eyes grave. I could almost feel her inner struggle…132

Just when I was sure she would leave, sidle back to her twin- wherever she had gone- Lorna stepped forward slowly. I kept smiling encouragingly, even as my heart leapt. She made her way toward us in slow, shuffling steps, looking around in a way that was more anxious than usual- looking for Lana.133

At last she was fairly close to us, looking at Katelyn, whose body was limp and relaxed, eyes drooping. She regarded her seriously, as though Katelyn were very strange indeed.134

“She’s almost asleep,” I told her, trying to be casual, as if Lorna often came up to me in such a manner. “Kind of nice when she’s not so loud, huh?”135

I didn’t expect a response, but Lorna nodded then, ever so slightly. I spoke again, my heart hammering.136

“Small, isn’t she?” I said. “Hard to believe you ever were that little, huh?”137

Again, Lorna slightly a soft little dip of her head. She was looking from me to Katelyn with her mouth parted, her eyes still cautious, but no longer attempting to hide their interest. Inside I was racing manically, trying to figure out exactly what I should and shouldn’t be saying to her.138

“I remember when you were born,” I said, being careful not to mention Lana. “You were even smaller than her- did we tell you that? Only four pounds- smaller than a cat.”139

Lorna looked at me solemnly, seeming to drink in my every word.140

“If we’d put you next to Grandma’s cats, why, they have mistaken you for kitty food, ate you right up,” I teased. I was surprised how I was speaking to her now, like any other child… it was Lana, both the twins together, that made the reality of their childishness seem nonexistent.141

I was glad to see Lorna smile at me, though she looked down at the floor quickly. It surprised me, how warm that brief, stifled smile made me feel… and how very few times I remembered ever seeing it.142

I reached out, having to extend my arm slightly awkwardly, and touched Lorna’s shoulder with the arm not supporting Katelyn. This was the first time I remember touching her purposely in years…143

Lorna stiffened at my touch, looked at my hand skittishly, but did not back away. In fact, she seemed to relax, even accept it after a few moments- maybe even enjoy it. Maybe this was partly Michelle’s and my fault- had we forced them to endure our touching, our holding them, spoke to them and made them reply to us made them stay apart- maybe they would be different.144

“Want to hold her, Lorna?” I asked her. “You can sit in this chair- I’ll show you how. If you’re careful, she won’t wake up.”145

Her eyes seemed soft, still hesitant, but more relaxed. Something about her face, her slightly open mouth, gave me the idea she was about to speak. I tensed, waiting with my breath almost held…146

And just at that untimely moment, Lana appeared in the doorway. Her face was impassive, seemingly indifferent- but I knew she saw what had been going on, and both Lorna and I, I’m sure, were very aware that she cared very much.147

Lorna did not turn to look at her sister, did not have any kind of startled, knee-jerk reaction as you would expect. She seemed to freeze, her eyes clouding slowly, dismayed- and afraid. I knew I was not imagining the fear filling her eyes gradually, nearly in slow motion.148

Her eyes went blank once more- her face a match for Lana’s, staring from the doorway. All her emotions from earlier were wiped away completely- where had they gone? Had she truly made herself not feel, or had she only stuffed it down where it could not be seen? How could a five-year-old do that?149

She turned from me quite deliberately, and it gave me chills to see my twins face to face, wondering what kind of communication between them I had just missed. I could not keep my heart from sinking, disappointment from rising bitterly in my throat. I had been so close- I knew I had been close to making Lorna speak. I felt somehow, illogical as it was, that if I could make Lorna speak just once, I could break the twins’ strangeness.150

I looked at Lana carefully then, searching her eyes for something… but there was only emptiness. Surely not child could be so calculating, so manipulative, as I was thinking…151

Or was I being as I had always accused Michelle, and burying my head in the sand?152

(Lorna)153

Lana is standing before me in our bedroom, blocking the door with her body as her hazel eyes bear hard into mine. She is very still, very intent, her voice a low, urgent whisper, lest anyone hear her but me.154

“Lorna.”155

I looked back at her, biting my lip. I cannot help it- even though I want to stop, I do it anyway.156

“Lorna, do you love me?”157

I do love her, I know this, and I know this is what she wants to hear. But sometimes, sometimes… I fee l like I hate her as much as I love her. And this makes me hesitate to respond.158

She stares at me, compelling me, until I can think of nothing else but the correct answer.159

“Yes,” I whisper, wanting to tear my eyes away, return my shame to the ground. “Yes…”160

“Then why do you hesitate?” she asked harshly, leaning closer to me. She is not touching me, but my heart beats, my body heats itself as if she were shaking me. “IF you love me you should say it. You shouldn’t be afraid. Do you truly love me, Lorna?”161

I cleared my throat, my face burning. Why was it so hard for me to obey?162

“I love you, Lana,” I rasped. 163

“More than anyone?” Lana demanded, her eyes holding me captive.164

“Yes,”I said more strongly. “more than anyone.”165

“You don’t love anyone else- do you?” she asked urgently, almost angrily. “No one but me.”166

“No,” I said softly, my heart twisting. “No, Lana, I only love you.”167

She continued to probe me with her eyes, as I tried hard to look… however she wanted me to. I must have passed, for she pulled me to her suddenly, giving me a long embrace that was loving, possessive, and nearly painful all at once.168

“Good,” she murmured. “This is how it should be, Lorna. We don’t’ need anyone else. I love you- only you. Remember that.”169

I hugged her back limply, feeling the body as familiar to me as my own, and felt nothing. 170

(Mrs. Howell)171

There are some students that as a teacher- even as a kindergarten teacher- you just can’t forget, no matter how many years go by. I would have to say Lana and Lorna Gregory fall under that category.172

I have had twins in my class before, and certainly I’ve had shy or handicapped children, but never have I had children who behaved anything like the Gregory twins. Their behavior in the classroom- and outside it as well- disturbed me considerably. And for someone who has taught for ten years now, it takes a lot to shock me when it comes to children.173

Of course, I realized that twins, especially ones so young, were often close. But these girls never were apart, never varied from each other at all, even in expression. 174

I could never tell the girls apart, even by the end of the school year- and neither could their own mother, I discovered during one of the many parent conferences I held with the Gregorys during the school year. Oddly, Harrison Gregory, the girls’ father, apparently could, though he rarely was around them. I often suspected, and the Gregorys admitted similar thoughts, that the twins deliberately made it impossible to tell each other apart.175

They would not play with the other children, or even acknowledge their presence. They did their work when I asked, and did so fairly well, but would not respond to me otherwise. The girls carried out their days in total quiet- and that is what concerned me. I thought at first the girls might have a hearing problem, or even a mental handicap. But their work in class proved this untrue- there was nothing wrong with their brains. Next I thought they might be mute. But a parent conference informed me that their doctor had pronounced them healthy.176

I advised, as did the school principal, Mr. Druwer, for the girls to attend speech therapy during school several times a week, as well as visiting another doctor for a second opinion. Both proved futile- the second doctor, puzzled, pronounced them physically well. He suggested child therapy, which Mrs. Gregory protested against. The speech therapy, after nearly a year, proved a waste of time, for through every session, where every method was tried to get the twins to attempt speech, they sat stonily.177

All through the year I watched the girls in bewilderment, at a loss as to what to do for them. Behind those blank little faces, I knew there was much more going on than met the eye.178

If those girls had been my daughters, I would have done all I could to get them help- sending them to doctors, therapy, whatever it took. The last time I spoke with the Gregorys, I told them this rather sharply- and I believe Mr. Gregory agreed with me. Perhaps they have tried since- I don’t know. But I do know that throughout their elementary years the Gregory girls remained silent.
(Michelle)179

After twins started kindergarten and both their teacher, Mrs. Howell, and their principal, Mr. Druwer, started telling us almost immediately how abnormal they were, that pretty much brought the beginning of the end of my attempts to pretend all was well. When all the school authorities tell you there is something wrong with your kids, you eventually have to start believing them.180

I took the twins to another doctor, receiving the same diagnosis of health- which both relieved and upset me. If they could talk, why wouldn’t they?181

He suggested setting them up for speech classes, which failed. Their teacher suggested therapy- which, naturally I resisted. But by their sixth year, when I realized nothing whatsoever had changed, I finally surrendered to the inevitable truth regarding our daughters. They were not merely shy- they were disturbed, and had been for as long as I remembered. We had let their oddness go on for six years- and it might be too late to correct it.182

It was then- right after the girls started first grade, that the struggle over the next few years began- for both the girls’ sanity, and Harrison’s and mine.183

Those years were miserable for all of us, including Katelyn, who was only a toddler at the time. She often was shuffled to the side in our attempts to help Lana and Lorna- free them…184

It was the years of doctors and therapists, various methods to shake the girls up enough to speak, respond to something other than each other. All which proved useless.185

We took them, in the years between six and nine years old, to seven doctors, all who proclaimed them healthy, and three therapists- two where both girls saw her simultaneously, and another where we attempted to have each twin meet her individually. The first therapist did not bother to tell us until nearly eight months had gone by and we had specifically asked her that neither Lorna nor Lana had said a single word the entire time they’d been going- and she had just let us keep sending them, taking our money.186

The second therapist- the one where we tried to separate them- was even less successful. The twins spoke, all right, but not words- they screamed, wordless shrieking and flailing so that the therapist and I had to use all our time and energy just to keep them from hurting themselves or us. They accomplished nothing the whole two months I attempted to take them except proving they did indeed have voices and strong emotions. 187

It exhausted and depressed me, to cope with them so crazed each week. Not to mention the fact that I was paying $160 a week to have my children go raging mad, literally. After the first attempt I was barely able to make it home before bursting into tears… it had finally fully hit me what damage our lack of intervention up until this point might have done to our daughters.188

After two months I stopped trying to take the girls. It was too much stress and effort, too much pain. I think their therapist gave up too- it wasn’t any more fun for her to hold down enraged twins, although she at least got paid for it. 189

What frustrated me was it was not like we had the girls in different buildings. The girls had ONE DOOR separating them- the door between the therapy room and the lobby. But the way they carried on, you would have thought we were sending one off to Siberia. It was embarrassing, to be the one mother who not only as to take her children to a therapist, but also has to restrain them as they make it impossible for anyone around the place to have peace. I think after two months we were no longer welcome even as paying customers.190

Even more irksome about the girls’ behavior was not what they did when we separated them, but rather how they behaved when allowed to regroup. Once the fifty minutes were up and whichever twin was in the therapy room was allowed back into the lobby with her, both girls would instantly revert back to the silent, blank expressions as usual. No more crying or shrieking- they didn’t even appear pleased to see each other particularly. They didn’t’ hug or smile- they just went silent again.191

It felt so manipulative, as if the twins were playing us. They could control themselves- they knew exactly what they were doing. It was just that they wouldn’t’ let us in on why they were doing it.192

We tried one more time, at the encouragement of the twins’ third grade teacher, to put them in therapy- this time together again. They were older now and might respond more positively- and weary, we agreed to try again.193

We tried for six months with Dr. Sutton, to no avail. She told us that our girls had a symbiotic relationship- which meant, she said, that one girl acted as a sort of parasite to another, using her mentally and emotionally for her own personal gain. She had never seen another child behave like our daughters…194

It made no sense to me- the girls always seemed so alike, so uniform. How could one control the other when they were so alike I could not tell them apart? I didn’t believe it- I had never seen evidence of such a thing.195

Dr. Sutton also said that the girls needed to be separated permanently for their own good in classes, in separate rooms at home, and if necessary, sending one child to live elsewhere. Obviously, it was easier for her to say than us to do. SHE had never seen the girls during their “separations”- she didn’t’ have to be with them each day. How could we separate them at school- all the other children wold be too frightened to learn, the twins would be expelled for fighting their teachers. We had been lucky so far- the girls had always been placed in the same classes.196

As for separate rooms, that would mean pairing Katelyn with one of them- not an option. And there was no way I could let someone else raise one of my children, even had someone offered or wanted to. 197

So I took the twins out of therapy. And we pretty much stopped trying to do anything to change them at all… Harrison and I had fights over this all the time, but then, Harrison and I had been fighting more and more often for as long as I could recall since their birth. He wanted to keep trying, keep attempting to help the girls- “fix” them. He thought it was wrong- dangerous- to let them go on as they were. He said it was our responsibility to them, to society- not to mention us- to do whatever was needed to change them. He even brought up Katelyn, how unfair it was to her to be raised with them as they were…198

After one particularly nasty fight, I broke down, crying and screaming at him, how he didn’t know, he didn’t understand, for he had always gone out of his way to avoid the twins. I told him it was his fault- had he shown them more love, they would not be as they were. I told him he had never loved them and could not love me either, if he wanted to send away my children.199

It was dramatic and cruel, what I said, and probably untrue- later I felt bad for it. But it must have hurt him… for he never again mentioned sending the twins away, or putting them back in therapy.200

The matter gradually became one we avoided discussing, then never brought up at all- as taboo as thoughts of lust toward others than your spouse. We let the twins be…201

They were put in the same classes all through elementary school, and there too they were left to their own devices. Ignored by the other kids, they did their work, but otherwise only sat. In middle school, although they still did regular work, they were placed with the resource children in a special classroom, just so they could be together in one class all day.202

They grew outwardly, our twins, but nothing else about them seemed to change. If anything, they grew closer, more bound to each other- to their silence- than ever.203

(Lorna)204

As the years passed and we both grew up, Lorna and I were left alone more than ever. No one tried to change us anymore, to pry us apart from each other… in fact, we had the same classes in elementary school and the same special education classes in high school and middle school. Lana loved this- it was exactly what we had wanted, or so she said. But sometimes, in spite of myself, I found myself wishing that everyone had tried, just a little harder, to separate us- at least sometimes.205

Don’t misunderstand- I loved Lana. I was completely, hopelessly devoted to her, and nothing she did could change that… nor will it. I wanted to be with her, to be like her, and it really had troubled me when they tried to separate us as children. But sometimes I wondered if it had panicked me so much to leave her, be different from her, because I felt that way, or because Lana did- and I was supposed to.206

For instance, the whole issue with the special ed class. It really bothered me sometimes that I was in there, alongside people with mental retardation and physical disabilities, when I could do my work perfectly well- even though they did give me and Lana work at our own grade level to complete independently. I think it was the principal of the matter I disliked- the knowledge that people thought Lana and I were stupid because we didn’t speak and were in special ed. I didn’t want people thinking I was stupid- even though I didn’t know why I cared. I knew I wasn’t supposed to care- but I could not conceal my thoughts about the matter from Lana, as usual. She nearly always could tell how I felt, even if tried to hide it.207

“You should not care what other people think or say about us,” she told me often and intently, her eyes and hands holding mine. “You should not even notice, Lorna. We are above them. We are special- we are twins. We do not need the approval or acceptance of others when we have each other.”208

And so chastised, I would try harder to not notice the others’ stares and smirks when Lana and I walked by, their occasional catcalls when we did not respond. I tried, but sometimes, I just knew Lana was wrong… I was not above anyone, at least not without her. It was Lana who was special and powerful- without her, I was nothing.209

And yet sometimes I wished Lana wasn’t quite so extraordinary, that I was not, by association of being her twin, made extraordinary as well. Sometimes I really just wanted to be like all the other girls, who seemed so happy with each other, their parents and boyfriends and their clothes that no one wore but them. I wanted to be like them, when I was not even supposed to see them. I wanted more than Lana… and for that, I felt deservedly guilty.210

As the years passed and Lana and I grew closer, were given more and more freedom to be alone together, this shameful thinking on my part intensified, so that I wanted to break free from our bondage of twinhood nearly as much as I loved her and wanted to stay glued at her side always.211

Lana had no such conflicting emotions. The more we were together, the more bonded mentally and emotionally, the more she clung tighter to me, so that sometimes when I opened my mouth, it seemed it was Lana, not me, who breathed. She policed our appearance before we stepped out of our bedroom every day, making sure every button and shoelace, every sleeve and angle of our ponytails, was identical. She would be upset if my shoe came untied, or if I scratched an arm, and would do what she could to duplicate any minor change in my appearance. I remember one time when we were about eleven or twelve, and for some reason I had a cold when she didn’t. Lana made me cough in her face over and over, so she could get my cold too. She grew very upset when I occasionally I lost or gained weight, and would alternately eat or fast until she was certain we were the same weight again. There was no difference at all between us- nothing anyone could point out as being Lana or Lorna alone.212

Everything continued in much the same way for years, until we were starting our sophomore year of high school. The year before, our freshman year, Lana and I had been placed in the high school special education class, but the school counselor had lots of conferences with our parents about this, and us in general. She had insisted that we did not belong in special ed, and placing us there only reinforced our behavior. Lana and I knew this from listening just outside doors- when you do not speak, people often forget that you can hear, and are not careful about the volume of their voices. She wanted us to be put back in therapy like when we were little- separately. It had been six years since anyone pulled that stunt on us, and for at least one year, we managed to evade it again.213

But our sophomore year, at its beginning, our school counselor, our teacher, and the principal all flat out told our parents that unless we were given therapy, separately, we would not be allowed back in the school, and our parents would be reported for neglect. Apparently they didn’t think we were stupid after all, but crazy- and it’s apparently illegal to deny your child psychological treatment when they are.214

Of course, Lana and I panicked- our parents would not let us get out of it, for this time they had no choice other than to make us go. Therefore, kicking and screaming wasn’t an option- although we would have been willing to do so, had we thought it would work for a second time. We were fifteen years old and terrified- desperate.215

Finally the night before we were to begin- Lana Mondays at 4, me right after her at 5- Lana simply held me by the shoulders, looking fiercely in my eyes.216

“We will behave no differently from normal,” she said fiercely. “it is only for an hour- we will simply carry on as we always do, as if we are together. Which means, Lorna, that we will sit there and block them out- block everything out, except each other. I will envision you in my mind- and you must do the same. You must not react to anything else- do you hear? Do you understand?”217

I nodded tightly, a lump in my throat cutting off speech. Her fingers were beginning to hurt me.218

“You must be brave, Lorna, and stand firm. Do not let them break you- break us. You must come back and tell me everything- and I will do the same for you. Do you think you can do that, Lorna?”219

“Yes,” I whispered- for what choice did I have?220

She held me tightly then, crushing my face to her chest.221

“I love you.”222

I whispered the expected response…223

Little did I know this was to be the beginning of the changing of everything.
(Dr. Glarton)224

I treated Lana and Lorna Gregory for fourteen months, before anything I did seemed to truly make a significant impact on either one of them. Every two weeks I saw them, one after another, and every method I tried yielded little to no response. I had gotten to the point where I believed my efforts were hopeless, that the twins were beyond psychological repair- had grown to dread the sessions with them- until one day I held at last in my possession the object I could use to spur them along…225

For these first fourteen months, I only continued to admit the girls because there seemed no other option for them at the moment. Their school would not admit them if they were not under some kind of psychological care, and the Gregorys would not send their daughters to any kind of program or institution that might have repaired some of the damage that had been allowed to go on. I was affordable for them, and they made it plain to me that they expected no miracles- the girls were seeing me because they had to. Any improvement at all would be unexpected and greatly appreciated.226

I was never even sure from session to session if the right twin had come in at the right time- for all I knew, Lana might come in at Lorna’s time, and Lorna, Lana’s. They certainly didn’t differ much in attitude that I could see- not by much, at any rate. That was the whole reason, beyond convience, that their appointments had been set up one after another- to make sure the girls each went in, rather than one going in for both sessions or some other trickery.227

Mrs. Gregory was clearly very nervous when she came with her daughters for the first time- expecting, I’m sure, the same tantrum techniques the girls had used the last time they had been separated in therapy. This did not happen- indeed, the girls behaved no differently than they were said to at home with family. That is, they sat there and would not respond to me.228

I tried everything I could think of for fourteen months to make those girls talk. I tried addressing them directly, conversationally, as though I expected them to answer me. I tried telling them about myself, the other patients I had helped, elective mutes I had read about. I tried bringing myself closer to them, my face near, in hopes my proximity would make them uncomfortable enough to at least move, if not speak. Only one twin showed reaction to this, and it was minimal- a tensing of her muscles. Nothing I could truly call a success.229

It gets hard to keep up a one way conversation for a while, especially for two sessions in a row. So eventually I tried to stay as silent and still as the girls, hoping they would grow either unsettled enough or maybe comfortable enough to speak. But that was a major failure- Lana and Lorna both could outsilence me any day. After all, they had not spoken to anyone their entire sixteen years- why would my silence change that?230

I told each of the girls several times that should they speak to me, I would not tell anyone that they had done so or what they had said, including their parents and their sister. But this did not seem to move the girls- at least not at first. They were stubborn, but after sixteen years, I guess it’s hardly surprising.231

But even despite their determination, I eventually began to pick out subtle differences in the two- betrayals of thought they may or may not have been aware of letting slip. It mostly showed through their eyes or body language, though they were skilled at controlling that as well- a tensing of the shoulders or jaw, a flash of emotion in their eyes.232

One twin was more apt than the other to show emotion- through her tightly pressed lips, her rigid posture, elbows and other limbs drawn in close to her body, as if by closing off her body, she could withdraw from social contact. She had to try so much harder than her sister, I suspected, to seem oblivious- and more than her sister, she was afraid she would not be able to. I believed she had reason to, for she seemed, without her sister as support, to have to think consciously about shutting herself off.233

It was this more timid twin that I hoped I could work with, slim as I knew the chances were. 234

The other twin was somewhat better at the stone-face game than her sister. She could stay perfectly still for extended amounts of time without betraying a single thought- usually. But if I watched her very closely after certain provocative statements on my part, I sometimes thought there was something about her- nothing she did, so much as her general aura- that seemed hostile toward me, or perhaps the situation. And other times I got the impression she felt smug, almost gloating in her silence.235

Of course, I couldn’t prove she felt that way, that I had not misinterpreted her or read too much into her. But this was what I felt- and based on the impression I got from the girls separately, I used my instincts to concor with the twins’ previous counselor; I grew to believe they had formed a symbiotic relationship, with one dominant girl intimidating or coaxing the more passive one into submission- which almost certainly included their muteness. And though I was not certain that the twin I saw for each time slot was the one supposed to be there, it was the girl who came in at Lana’s time that seemed the meeker of the two. It was Lana – if she was indeed Lana- I came to believe that most desperately needed help- needed freeing.236

I began to address each girl individually, striking at what, based on my admittedly weak impulses, I could gather about their roles in the twinship.237

“I know you think that not talking gives you power,” I told the girl coming in on Lorna’s time. “You’ve had this so long you don’t want to give it up- your control is what has made you who you are. But you’ll have more power if you talk- you would realize that if you tried.”238

This was the girl I believed to be hostile, and I felt then that she was contemptuous, though nothing more than a flicker crossed her eyes. 239

To the girl who came as Lana, I told her, “You are allowed to be your own person. You are you- Lana. Not your family, not your peers- and not your sister. You will be so much more satisfied with your life if you convince yourself of this… and then everyone else can see it too.”240

She looked down… and that was all. Sadly, even that meager response was enough to give me hope. There was so little to go on with these girls.241

It never occurred to me until well after a year into seeing the girls that they might speak to each other… and that if they did, we could find a way to record it. If they did speak when alone, just knowing what they said and how could give me great insight into treating them.242

So I asked their mother to hide an inexpensive tape recorder in the girls’ room just before she picked them up from school. I warned her not to let on to the girls that, if, when she retrieved them the next day, she heard them speak on the tape. To do so would wreck any small chance I might have to break through to them.243

When Mrs. Gregory delivered the tape to me one day while the girls were from school, I knew from looking at her that she had listened, and the girls had indeed spoken… but there was no gladness or relief in her eyes. If anything, she looked more distraught than she had ever before in my presence.244

When I listened to the tape, I understood myself why. I now had a greater insight into the girls and their muteness, their relationship- but it was far from reassuring.245

(Lorna)246

I will never forget the day where, during my session with Dr. Glarton, she looked straight at me, eyes measured in that way of hers that made me so uncomfortable, as if she could see past my silence, see exactly what I really thought… looked at me, and pulled a cassette tape from her purse beside her chair. Never forget it- make that, I will never be able to move past it.247

I had looked at her blankly, as usual- but this time I really did feel blank as well as look it. What was she doing with the tape? Were we going to listen to music- did the quiet bother her that much? Or did she hope I’d sing or something? If she thought just listening to music could make me sever my vows with Lana, she was crazy. I had never even sang with Lana before.248

“We’re going to listen to this together, Lana,” she said softly, and she stood, going toward the small radio on the table by her window. “We’re going to listen, and then I want to talk to you about it, okay?”249

I stared at her, shrugging inwardly. She could talk to me all she wanted, but I wasn’t talking back. Like I could break my silence for anyone who couldn’t even tell that I was Lorna, coming in during Lana’s time- Lana had asserted that if we went in on the other’s time rather than our own, even if we accidentally slipped our defenses, they would think the wrong thing about the wrong person- and still we would be protected. She knew no difference in us- but then, neither did anyone else.250

Dr. Glarton slipped the cassette into the player and pressed play, going to sit in her chair again. There were a long few minutes of silence, and I wondered what she was doing- she had gotten a blank tape?251

But then a voice broke the quiet, a voice I could recognize no matter how muffled or indistinct, how low the volume- Lana’s voice.252

I froze, my face stiffening so much my jaw felt weird, achy. I was horrified… they had Lana’s voice on tape- they knew she could talk- they knew…253

And then, I heard my own voice in reply to her, hesitant, soft- but there. They had my voice too…254

I began to tremble, unable to move, unable to speak as our voices filled the room… I was transfixed, the sound was transporting me back to the scene that had taken place…255

“Look at me.”256

It was Lana’s voice, and I raised my eyes to hers reluctantly, my shoulders hunched in anticipation. We had just come back from school, had barely shut our bedroom door, and already she was starting in on me. But then, I had known she would.257

“Why are you giving me that look?” Lana asked, her voice soft but dangerous.258

“I’m not,” I mumbled back, lowering my eyes once again- I could never bare to look at Lana when she was angry with me. 259

“Exactly- you’re not. You just looked down- why are you so reluctant to look at me?” Lana retorted.260

“I’m not,” I protested weakly, and I raised my eyes up to hers after another hesitation- seeing the anger in them, my heart squeezed, and I wanted to look away once more. I hated to have Lana angry with me- it terrified me. She was all I had, and if I lost her, cast off her love for me, I would be less than nothing.261

“Is it truly so hard to look at your twin- your twin, who gives up so much to show her devotion to you? Is it truly so hard- are you so embarrassed by me?” Lana demanded.262

“No!” I said quickly, my eyes opening wide. “No, I would never be- you know that! You know I love you more than anything- anyone!”263

“Or is it you would rather look at someone else?” Lana had persisted, her voice growing louder. “Someone like Evatt Spor- are you too distracted by his presence to even look me in the eye? Is he so fascinating to you, that you would-“264

“No!” I had cut in desperately, now looking at Lana fully, trying through pleading eyes to show her my sincerity. “I only glanced at him- I didn’t care about him at all! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”265

“You didn’t mean it,” Lana repeated sarcastically, staring at me so hard I shivered. “Like you didn’t mean to watch our mother and Katelyn yesterday. You didn’t mean to wake up earlier than me and leave the room yesterday. You never mean anything- but you still do it, don’t you?”266

“Please,” I had pleaded, and I grabbed hold of her hands, squeezing them urgently as Lana stared at me stonily. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to betray you. I mean it… I don’t want to be with anyone else, I don’t want to look at anyone but you.”267

“Say it then,” Lana prodded, her eyes still hard, but her voice easing up slightly. “Tell me that you won’t look at Evatt in the halls anymore. Tell me that you don’t need him- that you don’t want him. Tell me that you don’t need anyone but me.”268

I wrapped my arms around Lana’s waist, putting my head against her chest as I blinked, trying to force back my urge to cry. It scared me so much when she was angry with me…269

She did not hug me back, but stood there stiffly, awaiting my reply.270

“I won’t look at anyone,” I choked out finally, my heart feeling as heavy and tightly wound as a lead ball. “I won’t love anyone but you. I’ll never love anyone but you…”271

**************************************************************************8272

“Lana?”273

I could barely hear, barely noticed that the tape had been shut off, that my and Lana’s voices were no longer filling the small room. I wavered, still lost in a strange moment somewhere between the past, with Lana, and the future, with our exposure.274

“Lana? Look at me… please, Lana, look into my eyes.”275

The words were familiar, but the name was wrong… why was Lana calling me by her name? I had not yet become her, not completely- I still had my name, at least when alone with her.276

But then I realized that the voice was different… it was softer than Lana’s, but still firm… but there was compassion in it as well.277

I tried to look at the source- for I had realized then that it was the therapist, it was Dr. Glarton speaking to me- but dropped my eyes quickly, feeling my heart race.278

“Lana. You heard that tape… and so did I. I know you can talk- you and Lorna both.”279

I was shivering slightly, and I pressed my lips together, afraid words would spill out on their own accord. For she had heard my voice, though it was not of the present- how had she taped us?280

“It’s all right, Lana. I know you are afraid,” Dr. Glarton continued softly, still trying to catch my eyes with her own. “But remember what I told you- everything that happens in here is confidential. I cannot and will not tell anyone anything you say- or don’t say. I will tell no one that I heard you speak. No one, Lana- not your teachers or principal, not yours parents- and not your twin.”281

Her voice placed heavy emphasis on the last person mentioned, on Lana, who she thought of, thanks to us, as Lorna. I tried to believe her, but I had never trusted anyone but Lana before- and it was Lana who had insisted that our silence was so necessary. I began to shake worse as I suddenly thought about Lana’s reaction when she found out… she would be furious. I knew she would blame me, even though I hadn’t done it, hadn’t wanted it- I’d had no idea what Dr. Glarton had done. Or worse, she’d be horribly upset, crying and pleading for me to tell her why I had betrayed her, why I would hate her so much as to break seventeen years of our twinhood for this woman.282

And she would know, I knew she would. One look in my eyes and she’d know everything. I never can hide from her.283

“You’re afraid what Lorna will do, aren’t you, Lana?” Dr. Glarton asked softly. “You feel you have to tell her, or she’ll guess and there will be hell to pay- don’t you?284

What was she doing, reading my mind?285

I held myself perfectly still, trying not to even breathe. Maybe she would stop talking then- maybe-286

“I did not play this tape for Lorna, Lana- nor will I. And you are not compelled to tell her anything you don’t wish to- no matter what she tells you, the choice of what you reveal to her is yours. If you do not wish to speak to Lorna, or tell her something, then you do not have to. She is not you, Lana, not an extension of your body or your soul. She is only your sister.”287

Only my sister, I thought, with a hint of bitterness that surprised me. Clearly she did not know, did not understand at all, or she would never say Lana was my sister as if it meant nothing. Being the sister of Lana took up every second of my time, every ounce of my being, every nuance of my soul… being the sister of Lana was all that there was to me as a being.288

“I know Lorna wants to be the only person who can hear you voice,” Dr. Glarton went on quietly. “But there is so much more to it than that, Lana. She wants to be the only one who can have any part of you- didn’t you listen to yourself on that tape? She wants to be the only person in your world. She control every aspect of your person, Lana- she wants to be your master. And when you do not defend yourself against her, that is the only thing that can happen.”289

I sat there, heart pounding, swallowing repeatedly… I was trying to block out her voice, her gestures, but she kept going, her eyes never leaving my face. She could be like Lana too when she wanted to, making me helpless to block her out, helpless to close my eyes and turn away from her.290

“Lana… I want you to understand that your thoughts belong to you. They come from within you, from inside your own mind- not Lorna’s. It is okay to disagree with her, or wish she would let you speak- it is healthy. It is okay if you don’t think the same or do the same as Lorna. It’s okay if you don’t always like her or want to share your thoughts with her. What I’m saying might sound strange or scary to you, but it’s true.” 291

Her voice lowered, nearly a whisper. “You are allowed to speak should you ever wish to, Lana. You can make yourself feel free to do so if you will let me help you. You are allowed to love others. You are right and justified to want others in your life. It is your life- not Lorna’s.”292

I closed my eyes then, giving up any effort to keep an unemotional composure, struggling against my tears. Never had I cried before anyone but Lana, and I couldn’t start now, not here, not with this woman…293

“I know you’re afraid,” Dr. Glarton told me, her voice oddly gentle. “You have never had anyone to say these things to you- I’m sure you cannot believe they could be true. But they are true, Lana. You are your own person- and if you wanted to, you could break free of your sister. I promise. If you will let me, I will help you do it. I want to help you, Lana- you and your sister both, for by entrapping you, she is also entrapping herself.”294

I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter, and I guess Dr. Glarton got my unspoken message, for she backed off then, said nothing else to me for the remainder of our session. When finally it was over, she touched me- squeezed my shoulder, as no one but Lana had in years. She repeated that she would help me, if I would speak to her.295

I was terrified Lana would know, that I would have to tell her… but she asked me nothing. And for once, I did not volunteer anything.
(Dr. Glarton)296

It took three more sessions with Lana- the girl who came in during Lana’s time, at any rate- before she finally felt relaxed enough to speak to me at last. I use the word “relaxed” very loosely, for the first time I heard her speak, she held herself so hunched over, so drawn in on herself, that I thought her shoulder blades must ache at the day’s end…297

I am not sure what magic combination of events it took for her to speak at last- I was certainly not doing anything any differently than I had over the last three sessions. Throughout the entire month, I had spent most of the fifty minutes of each week I had with her trying to crack open her shell further. Each time she held herself still, resistant, her eyes terrified… and I could not blame her. After hearing for myself her sister’s tactics on the tape, imagining living for 17 years in such a way, I could understand why any attempts to break her even partly from her sister would be met with fear.298

Each session after I played the tape for her, I had given her reassurances of her own worth and freedom as an individual person, recounted for her the advantages of taking a stand, speaking. Repeatedly I assured her that nothing she said would be shared with anyone, including her sister- this was the one room where she could be safe, free from her control, and she should take advantage and comfort from this.299

I also emphasized to her that regardless of how it might feel emotionally, her sister was not as powerful as she seemed. She was a teenager just like her, and she was probably as frightened or worried at times as she was, if not more so. She only dealt with it differently.300

All this I said over and over, but as more sessions went by and still she said nothing, I began to feel my sense of hopelessness creep back. After the initial seeming success with the tape, she was still staying locked in her muteness… and I started to think pessimistically that nothing I did would matter, that it was too late to matter.301

But it wasn’t.302

It was on the third session after the tape that my efforts were finally rewarded. I don’t remember what I had said to her, even- my words were no different than anything I had said to her before, only further assurances that had seemed to have no impact upon her up until that point. As I had paused, a short silence emerged… and she had looked at her lap, her arms drawn in tight against her side, and said in a voice as low and raspy as a much older person’s, “I’m not Lana.”303

Of course, I had been stunned… I barely heard her. My heart hammered in excitement, and I had to force myself to calm down, push the adrenaline down, so as not to frighten her before she even began. But honestly, this was one of the most exciting and rewarding moments of my career…304

“I’m sorry?” I said softly. “What do you mean by that?” 305

She had sat there for almost two full minutes in silence, seeming to pull herself even closer together physically. I could see her trembling…306

Finally she almost whispered, “I- I’m Lorna. We- we switched. Times.”307

Ah- as I had thought at times to be a possibility. Nevertheless, I asked her, “Why would you do that, Lorna?”308

Lorna paused, drawing in a shuddery breath. When she spoke at last, her voice was muffled, eyes downcast. 309

“Lana,” she nearly whispered. “She- she- she wanted us- to be the same. She didn’t want- she wants you to think- that I’m her.”310

“I see,” I said slowly. “but you’re not her- are you? You’re not Lana. You may have things about you that are like Lana- you may look exactly alike- but there are things about you that are also different than Lana, aren’t there, Lorna?”311

Lorna looked torn, biting her lip and lowering her head further… she was probably caught between agreeing and protesting, equally believing that both were true. I hurried on, not wanting to lose her already when we had barely began.312

“You can love Lana with all your heart and soul, Lorna- and I know you do, without you telling me- but you can also disagree with some of the things she says or does. That’s okay, Lorna, it’s normal. Sisters are supposed to disagree- it can make your love for each other even stronger.”313

“But- but-” Lorna stuttered, seeming to have trouble saying what she was thinking. Her eyes were wide, alarmed- at me, or at her own thoughts, I did not know. Finally she forced out, “It- it’s different for us. We’re twins. We’re different.”314

“That may be true, Lorna,” I said gently, “but that doesn’t mean that you have less rights. You have as much freedom and right to space for personal growth as any other person, twin or not. And it’s time you learned how to claim it back for yourself.”315

Lorna went quiet once more, and I could see the dark thoughts, the worry and anxiety alight in her eyes. Btu something else had crept over her face as well, opened it up in a slight way that I had never seen in here before… a flicker of something akin to hope.316

(Lorna)317

The first time I deliberately hid something about a session with Dr. Glarton from Lana was nerve-wracking. It was the time she had played the tape of me and Lana speaking, and I knew she knew… I had not told Lana afterward, although she had not asked either. I had felt so nervous and guilty, certain she knew, certain she would spring her knowledge upon me when I least expected it, so I would be caught off guard…318

But nearly a month passed, and she said nothing. I was beginning to dare to believe that perhaps Lana really didn’t know everything about me, really couldn’t read my every thought…319

When I finally broke my silence, finally said something to Dr. Glarton for the first time in my life, I was terrified that Lana would know, and I would be unable to deny it, unable to earn her forgiveness. On top of all that was my guilt, my shame in having betrayed her, broken one of the most sacred vows of my existence. I could never go back now, never be the same Lorna I had been- Lana’s Lorna.320

I thought for sure Lana would know, that one glance would reveal my secret. I was sure she would wait until we got home and then launch into me, furious…321

But she said nothing to me, as before. I wondered then with incredulity how she had not known- I could not possibly have hidden such a huge thing so well, not from Lana. Did she truly know so little about me after all- or did she purposely conceal the truth from herself? 322

It was terrible to keep things from her, continue to tell her how I loved her even as I slowly pulled away… I was lying to her by omission if not by words, and though Dr. Glarton told me it was my right, it terrified me. I had become so good at hiding my thoughts and feelings from others- but to do so with Lana felt wrong, scary. I sometimes felt on the verge of tears, and I found myself nervously picking at my clothes or fingers, having a hard time sleeping, jumping of stiffening when Lana touched me. And yet my guilt made me touch her, hug her, much more than I normally would have.323

My stomach often clinched throughout the day, and I hated to look at myself in the mirror- or even at Lana, for fear of seeing myself reflected in her eyes. Yet sometimes I felt almost thrilled… my subtle battle of wills against her gave me a charge I had never before experienced.324

It was really hard to talk to Dr. Glarton. The first time had been almost involuntary- I had found myself speaking without intending to. It had been as shocking to me as to her. And the second time, the third time- I don’t’ even know where my reasoning was. Maybe I figured I’d already blown it and might as well keep it up. In a way, it was a relief… as hard as it was, and as nervous as I was to go back to Lana again each time I left, I almost felt good when I was in there, even if I said things that hurt or scared me.325

Dr. Glarton kept saying all the time these things I had never dared to think, let alone believe… that I was a good person, I was different from Lana… and that this was good. I didn’t believe her, couldn’t- and yet I wanted to so badly.326

After a long time, months probably, I enough courage to test out small ways to differentiate myself from Lana- ways of defying her. I would pretend not to notice her sending thoughts my way, pretend not to understand her looks or slight gestures. I would lag slightly behind her when we walked, lean slightly away from her when we sat, hold myself with different posture.327

I think she was confused at first, maybe even a little angry… maybe she thought she was imagining it, or that my intent was not deliberate. I don’t’ know- whatever she thought, Lana still said nothing. It wasn’t until months had passed that she finally confronted me, asked me why I was acting as I was. I was afraid, but somehow I summoned up the nerve to tell her that I wasn’t- that she must be mistaken.328

I was shaking so much, my voice so weak from real dread, that Lana must have believed me. Her anger dissolved, and then she herself seemed almost as afraid as I was- nearly on the verge of tears.329

“Tell me you love me, Lorna,” she whispered, grasping my fingers in hers. “I don’t feel like you do anymore- sometimes I feel like you’re slipping away…”330

“Of course I love you,” I told her, and I meant it. Even now I still do. “You know I do, Lana.”331

“Always?” she persisted, still clinging to my hands, and I repeated dutifully, “Yes, always.”332

She breathed in slowly, blinking. “You- you would never talk to anyone, right? Anyone but me.”333

“No,” I replied, and it was the first lie I had ever said to Lana outright. It shocked me how easily it came, how smoothly I could say it, only my rapid heartbeat giving me away.334

“No, of course not. I would never speak to anyone but you, Lorna….”335

(Harrison)336

There was something different about the twins… I could tell that, ever since about a year or so after their school forced Michelle and me put to put them back into therapy. Something changed about them I could not readily identify.337

It took me months before my vague thought carried over into a definite idea. It was the twins themselves that seemed different- or at least, one of them.338

Always before I had been able to tell the girls apart at least some of the time, more from undefined instinct than any definite evidence. But now I nearly always thought I could tell who was who… they just seemed like they looked slightly unalike each other now. Something in particular with Lorna. She seemed to hold herself differently, make better eye contact. Even when she stood with Lana, she seemed not to be so tied to her… so connected, was what came to mind. She seemed to show more expression at times, more body language, even in her continued silence. Lorna started to seem to me, as I watched her covertly, as though she were at least more than the second half of a set of twins.339

With Lana I noticed nothing. If anything she seemed more removed and unreachable than ever- especially when standing next to her twin. Lana’s eyes were dull and somehow hard at the same time- as though she were deliberately sealing herself away.340

I had expected nothing from this Dr. Glarton the girls were seeing- Michelle and I were just trying to get them back into their school. I had thought it pretty hopeless and focused my attentions on Katelyn, who by then was a middle schooler, twelve years old and more intelligent and beautiful than I could have hoped for.341

But what I began to see- or hope I saw- in Lorna gave me hope I’d lost years ago. Especially the day I saw her smile at me.342

I had never seen Lorna smile- in 17 years, nearly 18, and I had never seen my own daughter smile. But she did one day…343

I was alone in the kitchen at night, making a drink for myself, when I heard something in the doorway. Lorna was standing there alone- I knew it was Lorna, though she wore the same pajamas as Lana. Something about the set of her lips, the caution in her eyes, made me think she was anxious.344

“Hi, Lorna,” I said softly, not wanting to startle her- or bring her twin running to her side. “You are Lorna, right?”345

She nodded- another accomplishment. And then, slowly, tremulously, as if it pained her to do so, she smiled at me. 346

I just stood there, dumbstruck… I had barely registered her smile in my mind as actuality rather than a figment of my imagination before she turned quickly, her movements jerky, and left the room.347

I could only stare after her, amazed by how touched I could be by the smile of the strange girl I called my daughter… the first smile I had ever seen her bestow upon anyone.348

(Michelle)349

There was something different about Harrison… he seemed absent-minded, distracted, almost confused. He no longer seemed so cold or untouchable in demeanor- so highly strung, almost angry. I didn’t’ understand it at all- what could have lessened his intensity in such a way?350

I began to watch him, and soon a pattern emerged. Harrison was home more often, spent more time with me- and around, if not exactly with, the twins. He had once avoided them as much as possible, but he now seemed to linger near them, watching them in a seemingly casual way… but Harrison looking at them was anything but casual. 351

So then I too began to watch the girls, wondering what it was he noticed or was thinking. And I could not quite understand, but I began to feel that something was different, something was changing… something I had given up on long ago.352

Harrison and I did not discuss it- I’m not sure what we could have said about it. Btu we both understood the others’ thoughts 353

It’s been nearly a year since Lorna Gregory first spoke to me during a session. Nearly a year that I’ve been able to watch her grow from a painfully repressed teenager totally consumed by her sister and her sister’s will, to a young woman of nearly 18, a young woman finally attempting to break free.354

It has been a slow, painstaking progress over each week I speak with her- sometimes so slow it seemed she was standing still rather than moving forward. But now, just by looking at her, listening to her speak, it is obvious how far along Lorna has come- she is not yet a different person, but she at last has the potential to become one.355

Lorna’s progress, though far from rapid, is definitely noticeable to me. She holds herself a little more loosely, slightly more confidently than the still, hunched up girl I had met two years ago. She sometimes makes eye contact now, and though she is still extremely cautious in her words and movements, she no longer controlled her every expression with me, nor did she seem overtly afraid. And of course, there was the matter of her speaking- that in itself still amazed me, although no others beyond Lana and myself had yet to hear her.356

Lorna’s improvements were even more remarkable because with each of our sessions, I first sat through one with her twin. Lana still clung tenaciously to silence, though I sometimes thought I could detect hostility in her otherwise blank expression. Of course, this could very well have been influenced by all Lorna told me about her. Lana, with her silent stillness and eerie blank face, made it even more dramatic to next see Lorna, with her speech and occasional eye contact- her emotion.357

I sometimes had to stop myself from thinking of her change too smugly as having come about from my efforts. I knew very well it had not been I who had changed Lorna so- no one could have done so had she not wanted them to. Didn’t all the others who had worked with her, tried to help her, prove that? Lorna had been at a point in her life where she was ready for someone to break in, someone to help her pull from her sister’s grasp. Had she not been, nothing I could have done would have budged her- and therefore, none of her progress was solely my doing.358

Of course, Lorna still loved Lana deeply, was still unhealthily attached to her and controlled by her- but Lana no longer dominated her every thought and decision, no longer held her fully immobilized by fear. In fact, Lorna was beginning to defy her in small ways- even lie to her. That, more than anything, was the most encouraging sign to me.359

Now I was looking at Lorna during our session, listening with a mix of pride and amusement as she hesitantly told me of her latest progress.360

“I-I smiled at our dad yesterday,”she said to me, her voice quiet, but the pride evident. “When Lana was taking a shower. I went to the kitchen and- and I smiled at him. And I hadn’t ever done that before. And he got really surprised and looked at me, but I did it- and Lana wouldn’t like it, but I did it anyway.”361

“That’s great, Lorna,” I started to praise her, and her lips curved quickly. It warmed my heart to see it.362

“I smiled at- at Katelyn too,” she added bashfully, ducking her head. “My younger sister. This morning. In the hall. I did, and she looked really surprised too. And our father knew my name, he knew I was Lorna. He does sometimes. But Katelyn didn’t. She didn’t say anything. She just- I don’t know, stood there- and I left really quick. I still don’t want Lana to see.”363

“Lorna, that’s terrific,” I started again, but to my amazement, Lorna interrupted me- something she had never done before. I would never have thought she’d be eager enough to speak that she’d cut someone else’s words off…364

“And- today? I- I smiled at this, this guy in our school. Evatt. I never did before- Lana didn’t want me to- but I did. Where- when she didn’t see,” Lorna said hurriedly. “And he- he smiled back. He-“365

She cut herself off, flushing in pleasure and anxiety. I watched her for a moment, making sure she was finished before commenting.366

“Lorna, what you’re telling me is great. You’re starting to assert yourself, come into your own.”367

Lorna ducked her head, but not fast enough for me to miss her awkward smile. It made me smile too. “You’ve come a long way, and you’re trying hard- I’m really proud of you.”368

“Um… thanks,” Lorna stammered, the words awkward on her tongue.369

“How did it feel to smile at those people, when Lana wouldn’t want you to?”370

“Uh… I liked it. It felt… good… I don’t know. I-“371

“Did you feel free, in a way?” I prompted gently. “As though you could do anything, and not suffer the consequences?”372

Lorna thought about it, then nodded slowly, her eyes a bit anxious. 373

“Yeah… maybe…”374

“That does not mean you are bad or wrong in any way, Lorna,” I assured her. “In fact, it is healthy and normal. Every person on this earth has the right to freedom from birth. You surrendered yours to Lana, at times almost voluntarily. It is not surprising that you would take pleasure in taking it back for yourself.”375

Lorna didn’t say anything, but I could tell from the way her eyes darkened that she was thinking.376

“You know, Lorna, the only way you’ll ever truly feel good about yourself- truly feel free- is if you talk,” I said carefully. This was not the first time I had mentioned the matter to her- but I was beginning to think that the time might soon be coming where the mentioning of it would not completely freeze her in fear, as it once had.377

“I know you talk in here with me, Lorna, and I am very appreciative of that. That’s great. But here, it is still very safe, for Lana is not here- nor is there a chance she ever will be. To truly assert yourself as a separate person from her, you must speak out- even where she might hear.”378

Lorna was beginning to regain her frozen rabbit look, and I hastened to reassure her further. “You would start slowly, Lorna. You could start with just your family- even just one person in your family. Anyone but Lana. All the others- school, anyone else- all that can wait. But Lorna, you have to start talking to someone other than me and Lana.”379

“I can’t,” Lorna whispered, interrupting for the second time. “I can’t- you don’t’ know-“380

“You can,” I told her softly. “I know you can, Lorna. You may not be ready to yet- you may not want to yet- but you can. You have to if you want to be free.”381

“No,” Lorna shook her head frantically. “No.”382

“You don’t have to right now,” I said quickly, trying to stop her from panicking. “But one day you’ll have to, Lorna. You are Lorna Melissa Gregory- you cannot continue to be a hybrid between yourself and Lana. I know it’s difficult, scary, but you’ll never have the life you need if you do not break from Lana.”383

Lorna bit her lip, actually wringing her hands. I watched her closely, and I saw that she was fighting back tears. “I can’t,” she said, her voice cracking. “I can’t-“384

“It doesn’t feel safe, does it?” I asked gently. “But Lorna, at one point it didn’t feel safe to talk to me, even alone together with no chance of Lana breaking in or hearing. It didn’t feel safe to lie to her, to smile or look at anyone other than her. But now it does, marginally so. And the more you practice these kind of things, the more it will seem safe to speak to your family- even if Lana hears you.”385

Lorna just shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. She lowered her head, averting her face from mine. Something about the pathetic figure moved me, but I stiffened myself, made myself continue to address her.386

“You will have to do this, and the sooner the better. The easier for you and Lana both. What you don’t realize, Lorna, is that it doesn’t hurt just you to live the way you do, under Lana’s thumb. It hurts her too, for she can never be truly free and happy either. She has made her life all about controlling you, and that hurts her as much as it hurts you. But Lorna- Lana cannot stop you from speaking out, from separating yourself from her. She cannot hurt you anymore if you do this- at least not in the wholly dangerous way she does now.”387

For a long while Lorna said nothing, only wept silently, hiding her face. I waited, hoping I hadn’t scared her enough to make her retreat back to her silence.388

“But you don’t understand,” she whimpered finally. “ I love Lana. I couldn’t hurt her like that. It would kill her.”389

“Lorna,” I said firmly. “Think about how Lana has hurt YOU all these years by keeping you so afraid. She has helped you lose almost eighteen years of your life- your entire childhood. I know you love her, and that is perfectly right and normal. But just because you love someone does not mean you should let them rule you.”390

Lorna said nothing…391

I spoke to her a little more afterward, trying to calm her down more than convince her further. She clearly was not ready; my heart sank slightly in disappointment. It was hard to imagine, even with all her progress thus far, that she ever would be.392

(Lorna)393

For the next few days after the last session with Dr. Glarton, I was so wrought with nerves I scarcely dared look at anyone- even Lana- for fear they would know,and see what I was thinking, the terror in my thoughts. What if they knew what Dr. Glarton had told me to do- and worse, what if they knew I was considering doing it? For that was what had terrified me most- I had, and still was, actually wanting to speak to others.394

How could I do it- how could I turn from everything I believed, and betray every value- my precaution I’d taken since a child? How could I betray Lana, who had loved me more than anyone else? And yet, that was precisely the thought that consumed me… I had wept in the office not entirely from fear of the idea itself, but also for fear I would actually do it- actually wanted to…395

I backtracked then, and in the next few days I did all I could to return myself into Lana’s good graces. I was more affectionate and attentive, listened and clung to her as I hadn’t in weeks… I didn’t dare to smile at anyone again, or hardly even look at them. And Lana seemed happy- relieved, and more than glad to have me return to normal.396

But it was not enough. She demanded more of me emotionally in those few days than she had in the weeks I had pulled away… nothing I did seemed enough, she only pulled me to her more tightly. It was as if she were punishing me for my earlier transgressions.397

And despite my efforts, Lana’s demands only made it harder for me to break my mind away from my persistent thoughts… time and time again I kept thinking of speaking, remembering Dr. Glarton’s arguments for me.398

I think when it really started to get worse was when I saw Evatt as school again. I’ve never had any classes with him, but I pass him sometimes in the hall. He is really nice-looking, and sometimes I look at him, even when I didn’t really want to, or Lana would see. But anyway, I saw Evatt in the hall when I was walking with Lana, and I think that is probably what brought everything to a head.399

I was following him with my eyes, and before I knew it he was looking at me- and I didn’t look away. Evatt was looking at me, and to my mutual surprise and pleasure, he lifted his hand in a wave, smiling- at ME.400

Before I could help myself I smiled back, flushing. As he walked on, a hand clamped harshly around my wrist, and I jumped, scared almost senseless. It was Lana… I had forgotten her, somehow forgotten my own sister, my twin. Her face was as immovable as usual, but I knew she was very upset.401

My stomach tightened, and I felt my heart squeeze uncomfortably- but at the same time I felt a startling flash of anger… anger at Lana. Why did she have to be so mad- why couldn’t I smile at anyone but her?402

The words of Dr. Glarton came back to me unbidden… “Just because you love her doesn’t mean you should continue to allow her to rule you…”403

What that what I was doing- what Lana was doing? Of course it was… but I had always been okay with it, seen it as her right. No- that was a lie. I had not been okay with it- but I had accepted it. 404

What if I had never done so? Would I be a different person now- would I be happier? But mostly- would Lana still love me?
Of course, Lana didn’t say anything about my transgression- not until I was alone with her once more, in our bedroom and behind locked doors. It was then that she tore into me, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me, her face close to mine.405

“What the hell is your problem, Lorna?” she hissed- for Lana never yelled, never raised her voice where others might hear. Always the sound of Lana’s whisper had filled me with more fear than the sound of another’s shouts…406

But now I felt only a shimmering of residual fear, more habitual and instinctive than anything else… and I felt frustrated. I wanted her to stop yelling at me- not to please her, or from fear, but because I resented it.407

“Do you so want the attention of strangers that you would sacrifice me, sacrifice the bond no one else could ever dream of sharing? Would you throw yourself at a person who would use you and your body, then cast your remains at my feet?” Lana demanded, shaking me slightly as she spoke. Her cheeks were flushed, seeming to glow in her ire. “Would you truly be so blinded, so dazzled by some worthless boy, that you would forget me, your own twin? Yes, you would, I see! Tell me, Lorna, why is it you hold me in such careless regard when I cherish you- love you more than any other object of this world?”408

Her chest was heaving, her limbs trembling as she held me at arms length, her eyes boring into mine. I could not stop myself from shaking slightly… but somehow my voice was soft, steady when I answered. “409

“I didn’t wish to hurt you, Lana. I never hurt you intentionally.”410

“You hurt me every day, every time you betray me, every time you forget what I am to you, what I’ve done for you!” Lana hissed. I was breathing shallowly, and my heart leapt as soon as I heard myself reply to her- for I had not planned my words, had not even known I thought them- and yet they spilled forth from me all the same.411

“I never hurt you intentionally, Lana, nor do I try to bring you guilt or pain. But you do, to me.”412

Lana’s frame jerked in shock at me words, and she gawked at me, so startled her hands loosened their grip on me. She seemed flabbergasted, aghast that I would even think such a thing. Her mouth opened, and a pain- a panic- shot into her eyes that immediately made me hurt, even as I braced myself. I don’t think I knew quite what I was doing or saying, even as I spoke, deliberately defying her.413

“How could you say that?” Lana whispered, the hurt obvious in her voice, her expression. “I love you more than anyone- I love you so that no one else never could understand it.”414

“I know you do, Lana,” I said slowly, my voice very quiet, but amazingly steady. “I never doubted that you loved me. But you hurt me too. And I think you know that you hurt me, sometimes… but you do it anyway, to get me to do what you want me to.”415

Lana stared at me, and I saw that her face was perfectly still even as her eyes flashed a string of strong emotions- anger, hurt, fear, and frantic intensity…416

Her eyes narrowed suddenly, tightening in sudden understanding. She stepped closer to me, and it took all my will power not to look away, step back from her.417

“They’ve brainwashed you, haven’t they, Lorna?” she said, her voice hard. “That fucking therapist- those assholes at school- they’ve taken you away from me. You let them get to you- you let them reach inside and rip away all that made you special- all that made us special. How could you do that, after all I’ve done for you, all I’ve sacrificed?”418

I could hear my heart thudding in my chest, felt my mouth go dry at her tone, the way she was looking at me, her closeness. Never before had I dared to speak to her like this, dared to speak what I was just now recognizing as the truth. It amazed me that I even considered it in my mind, let alone carried it out in my actions, yet here I was, not backing down, not looking away…419

I could not read her thoughts- had no instinctive knowledge of what she wanted, what she was trying to tell me to do or say…. In fact, I realized with surprise, I hadn’t for some time now. Whether this was because she had stopped trying, or I had simply stopped being connected to her enough to understand, I didn’t know.420

“No, Lana, they didn’t,” I said carefully, determinedly, still unable to believe that the words were leaving my mouth. “They didn’t brainwash me- no one did. I thought- I always thought this. I just never said it. You wouldn’t let me say it. You didn’t let me speak at all. If anyone brainwashed me…” and here my voice dropped, almost inaudible, as some of my bravado left me. “If anyone brainwashed me, you did.”421

“What?” Lana snapped, her voice rising slightly, shriller and less controlled than it usually was when I upset her. “Lorna, what the hell- how- what are you saying?! Why would you even want to speak- why, when you have me? We didn’t need anyone- we still don’t- why are you doing this?” Her voice was growing panicked, and she stopped, visibly controlling herself, composing herself. When she looked up at me again, her voice was low, measured, but her eyes still glowed feverishly.422

“You don’t have to do this, Lorna. If you will take back what you just said, I’ll forget it- I’ll forgive you, and we can go back to us, to normal. Okay?”423

Her body language, the way she held herself, pleaded for me to give in to her, do the safe thing, the easy thing. For a moment I wavered, torn… I loved her, and what I was doing terrified me, for it would mean losing her in some vital way…424

But when would I ever have another chance? How could it truly be okay again after what I’d said? It was only a wish- Lana’s wish. For I meant what I had said to her, even if I didn’t understand how I had been able to say it.425

“I can’t, Lana,” I said softly. “I’m sorry… but I can’t.”426

A silence hung between us for several moments, as my heart continued to overexert itself. The look on Lana’s face pierced something soft and delicate in my chest…427

“Why?” she rasped, her voice cracking, as her face trembled, fighting for composure. “Why?”428

I wanted to touch her then, hold her, do something to soften the terrible fear I saw in her eyes… something to take away the guilt gnawing at my stomach. But I couldn’t…429

“Because I’m not supposed to… I’m not supposed to be only yours, Lana. You say we need each other only. But someone had to take care of us, earlier- it wasn’t you who changed me or fed me or put me to sleep, when I was little. You couldn’t- because you were little too. You always said we never needed anyone but each other… but that’s not true,” I said, my voice almost a whisper. “We needed someone else then or we never would have survived. And- I think- we need others now too…”430

I swallowed hard, trying not to look at Lana without letting myself drown in her eyes.431

“I-I want people besides you. I need other people… I want to talk to them. I-I want to love them.”432

“You can’t,” Lana whispered, her face stricken, and she blinked rapidly, her eyes glossy with emerging tears of panic. “You can’t love anyone else- you’re not supposed to. We’re twins, Lorna, you can’t-“433

“Why not?” I asked her, my voice sharper than I had intended. “Why can’t I, Lana? Why can everybody love who they want to except me?”434

Lana blinked rapidly, her lips tightening… for the first time since I could remember, she looked away from me.435

“If- if you love anyone else,” she began shakily, her voice barely audible, “then- you won’t have enough love left for me.”436

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away. My chest twisted painfully, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and wiping them from her cheeks. She closed her eyes, a sob escaping her, and her shoulders slumped. I touched her hair gently, pushing it back from her face.437

“I’ll always love you, Lana,” I said quietly. “ Nothing you do could make me stop. Nothing you’ve ever done has. If anything, I’ll only love you more… if you let me go.” I hesitated, hating what I was about to say, feeling guilty even before I saw Lana’s reaction.438

“I’ll love you more,Lana… because I won’t be afraid of you, or resent you. I’ll be- I can love you more- because you won’t be suffocating me- kind of- forcing me to love you.”439

Lana seemed unable to speak; she just stood there, so close to me, and yet so remote, her whole body trembling, her face on the verge of splintering apart.440

I watched her, trembling myself, and in that moment I felt further from her than I had ever before. But I also felt a fierce aching love for her I could hardly bear.441

“Lorna,” she managed to choke out, her voice raw, distorted. “I told you, I’ve always told you, I would never let you go. I’ll- I’d- I’d rather kill you than lose you like this. I would rather kill myself.”442

“If you feel that way,” I breathed, “if you really value your life so little- then maybe- maybe you would- be happier.”443

I couldn’t continue, couldn’t make myself elaborate on the cruel thought I hadn’t mean to think, let alone say aloud. I knew how it had affected Lana, as her eyes filled with fresh pain; she doubled over, as if I had stabbed her in the heart. Tears flowed down her cheeks. I could not remember when I had last seen Lana cry- and never had I been the one to hurt her so deeply.444

“How- how can you do this?” she wept, her shoulders shaking violently. “How could you betray me…”445

I took a deep breath, fighting back my own urge to cry. I couldn’t stop trembling, my legs would barely hold me up. I think I was starting to go into shock.446

“I-I’m- I’m not trying to betray you, Lana,” I told her, as I tried to remember Dr. Glarton’s words to me, bring them back in mind. “I’m trying to- to be free…”447

She was still crying, too harshly and angrily to answer. She slid to the floor, her head hanging so her hair covered most of her face.448

I watched her for a few moments, just trying to remain standing, keep breathing, keep from hyperventilating or letting my heart explode. Finally I squatted beside her, slowly putting her hair back from her face. She glared up at me, her face mottled and shiny with tears, lips shaking. Cautiously I leaned forward, kissing her cheek and tasting the salt of her tears on my lips.449

“I love you, Lana… I’m sorry.”450

I straightened, stood, my legs weak and rubbery beneath me. I think it was even harder for me to turn away from her then, leave her crying on the floor and walk out the door, then it had been to say all I had just said to her.451

But I did it. Somehow I turned from her and walked away.452

My mind was swirling in a hundred directions, every emotion I had tried for years to repress now coming over me at once. I could barely make my legs keep going, keep moving down the hall.453

They were there, as I’d thought… our parents, both of them, and our sister too. Our father had probably just come in a few minutes ago, for the clock above the kitchen read 5:15. Our mother was stirring something at the stove, and our father was just sitting at the table as Katelyn emptied the dishwasher. It was quiet, but comfortable for them, I could tell. This was something I had never been part of… but watching them, I felt a lump in my throat, a pang of powerful desire.454

I opened my mouth, meaning to clear my throat, do something to announce my presence… but no sound emerged. For a few seconds I panicked- but suddenly the dryness constricting my throat was gone, and the word had escaped my lips before I could think further. Just one word- that was all it took to change everything.455

“Hi,” I whispered.456

The end