As I started to walk away a voice called me: "Aren't you forgetting anything?" Turning around I saw purple cap man helping my twin to her feet. "Or someone?" he added motioning her towards me. Looking at her dazed and imploring expression I felt tears welling up and streaming down my cheeks.
"No, I'm not forgetting anyone or anything, I shrieked, "because I'm doing this on my own this time!"
"Haven't you learn anything? Look at her and look at you!" cackled the old man. Wiping the tears and the snot on my sleeve I tried to compose myself.
"It is easy for you to say" I replied defiantly, "You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life and struggles."
"Don't I? Who had to take care of her all this time, while you did want to know". With this words he picked up the last carton of juice and threw it a me, hitting me right on the forehead.
I issued forth an exclamation of pain as the edge of the carton caused a small gash to appear in the middle of my forehead, my life's blood dripping from it down the side of my face in a twisted parody of tears. Wiping away the blood, I deliberated my next course of action. My twin rushed over to me, gently kissing the wound she said softly: "Don't mind him, he is only jealous of our special relationship. He is just a sad and lonely person unable to appreciate what he could have. Let me come with you and we will take care of each others."
Suddenly from out of the fog, a rusty old truck appeared, and screeched to a halt next to me. I cringed at the sound of the squeal the driver's window made as the occupant struggled to roll it down.
Inside a dark hooded figure turned my way, the face hidden by a shadow so dark it took my breath away. As I look in his direction, the hooded figure turned towards the purple caped man, pointed at him in such a way that I had to turn away. The hollow sound of the trucks door latch echoed in the foggy air, then a painful creak pierced the night as the truck door swung open. There was a groan as the figure shifted its weight in an attempt to get out of the truck. One shiny boot-clad foot rested on the metal step under the door. Then another boot joined the first. The truck door obscured my view of the figure from the knee upward.
A skinny figure stepped out from behind the door and looked at me "Hi I'm Dick, You look to be in a bit of a bind" he said.
Angrily the old man interjected: "The last thing we need now is an interfering good Samaritan. Take my advise Dicky Boy... you get back into your rust bucket and scram before I loose my temper!"
Dick let out a mocking laugh. Squaring up to Purple Cape he said: "Well old timer, you nearly have me shaking in my boots there"
Pause. "From LAUGHTER!" More mocking laughter is heard from Dick as he pulls our a random pair of scissors and starts cutting out a gingerbread man chain on the bottom of Purple Cape Man's purple cape. I couldn't help but to let out a giggle as I see Dick bow and say, "wal law."
"Look here Skinny Get you bloody scissors away from my cape. And don't be calling me old timer, the name is Rodney. I just cant get any respect around here."
On a swift impulse the twin tore off the gingerbread man chain from the cape. Holding it tight against her chest she tip-toed to give both Dick and Rodney a quick peck on the cheeks. "Thank you, this is really lovely. My name is Tara and you are both so sweet." Turning on her heels she climbed into the truck. Sitting in the cab with an impish smile on her face she motioned me to join her by gently patting the derelict seat beside her. So I hopped in beside her, turned the key that was conveniently left in the ignition, and sped away from both Rodney and Dick, leaving them to choke on the dust clouds raised by my exit.
Well this is the end. With the help of my twin, I become a more complete person. Other wise this thread would on forever.
Anyone else who wants to start a new story is welcomed to.
