Agatha and Allen

Agatha and Allen.

Twin they were. And twins always know what the other is feeling. That was what added to one another's depression.

Neither one of them could bear the thought that their other half was suffering.

That horrible day in January was a day that they both lost someone close to them. Allen that day lost two of his closest friends while Agatha lost not only her friends, but her husband too.

They both lost the two people that had understood them, the two people that had been special to them.

And it was because of that day, that cold day in January that they were both slowly losing something important.

Allen never left the apartment. He spent all of his time either losing himself in the imaginary world that he had carefully sketched out in his mind, the place where everyone he held close to his heart was at. Where they all lived a life full of nothing but happiness and sunny days. It was either in this place Allen spent his time or lost in the pages of one of the many books he read.

Allen was the twin that was slowly losing his own mind to a world that didn’t exist.

Agatha only knew worry. She spent every hour of every day worrying about her brother, her unborn child, the random stranger that lived down the hall in the apartment complex. Agatha just couldn’t stop worrying. She couldn’t eat, she couldn’t sleep, and she couldn’t function anymore! While she worried about the safety and health of others, Agatha remained oblivious to her own needs. She didn’t take notice of the dangers she was putting herself into by starving herself and never sleeping. Agatha was putting both herself and her baby in danger because of her obliviousness.

Agatha was the twin that was losing herself from worrying too much about others.

They were both losing themselves, and by doing that they were losing one another. They were both bordering on that thin line of insanity.

Agatha and Allen were the twins that were slowly killing themselves without even realizing it.