I Loved the Wrong Twin

People often say, "If you invite the devil in, the devil will come." This turned out to be true for her because she was the one who let the devil into her life and home. As she looked at her reflection in a broken mirror on the ground, she laughed at herself. She saw a monster staring back—a pale, sickly figure with bloodied scars on her forehead. Her face was ghostly thin, her lips cracked and bleeding, and her hair greasy and unkempt. She looked like death itself, and yet, she laughed at the horrifying sight of what she had become.

She turned and stepped onto the balcony on the third floor, gazing up at the night sky. And there, she saw it—the brightest star of all. It shone so brightly, so close, that when she closed her eyes, she felt like she could almost reach out and touch it. But when she opened her eyes again, the star was gone. It had drifted far away, farther than she could ever reach. She knew, deep down, she would never find it again.

She woke up in a panic, startled by the sound of her alarm. Sweat covered her forehead, and with shaky hands, she wiped it away. For months, she hadn’t been able to sleep properly. Her mind was filled with racing thoughts and fears—how could she have killed someone? Still half-asleep, she stumbled toward the bathroom, limping as she dragged her sore and tired body. When she looked in the mirror, her dark eyes stared back at her. Her face was injured and bloody, just like in her dreams. Her black hair was messy and covered in dust. Without hesitation, she stepped into the shower, bracing herself as the cold water hit her. Though it was a shock at first, it left her feeling more awake and alive.

With every passing second, she grew more aware of her surroundings. The sharp pain faded into a dull ache, but a wave of nausea hit her, making her feel as if her body was being ripped apart. Visions of lifeless bodies flashed in her mind, but she quickly pushed them away. She focused on washing her hair and scrubbing her body hard, trying to erase the memory of her nightmare. Slowly, her heart rate calmed down. But as the water ran over her, the images returned. The screams, the cries, and the chaos around her seemed to fade into the distance, leaving only the sight of her hands. Suddenly, a small scream escaped her lips as she watched her skin change—turning paler, darker, and more twisted, like something out of a nightmare.

Blood seemed to drip everywhere as the scene shifted to a familiar room. The bed was empty, and a large mirror hung on the wall, reflecting the dark night sky. Moonlight spilled in, lighting up part of the room. In the far corner, a bloodied figure lay motionless. A strong, metallic smell filled the air, making her stomach churn. Her vision blurred as darkness closed in around her. Her heart raced, and her breathing became heavy and uneven. She clutched her chest, struggling to breathe, as sweat rolled down her temples. Leaning forward, she gripped the shower head tightly, trying to steady herself, but fear overwhelmed her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t control her breathing. Each breath felt more painful than the last, leaving her gasping and desperate for air.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the chaos, but it was no use. The bathroom seemed to spin around her as she clung to the shower curtain, desperate for something to hold onto. But even with all her strength, she started to slip. Her grip faltered, and she slid over the edge of the bathtub, tumbling into the icy water below. For a moment, she lay there, stunned, before quickly sitting up, coughing and gasping as the cold water hit her face. She struggled to catch her breath, the freezing spray numbing her thoughts and washing away the haunting memories.

Once she regained her composure, she washed the blood from her face and carefully cleaned her scars. She changed into a crisp white shirt and beige pants, making sure to cover her scars so no one would notice or ask questions. Truthfully, she didn’t even know how they got there. As she left the room, the sound of clattering dishes and the warm, inviting smell of food greeted her, pulling her into the bustling world downstairs.

"Good morning, Mum!" Blair greeted as she walked into the kitchen. Her mother, Ms. Elizabeth, turned to her with a smile and kissed her cheek.

"Happy birthday, Blair," she said warmly. Blair paused, surprised—she had completely forgotten that today was her 26th birthday.

"Thank you, Mom," she replied, quickly grabbing her favorite Americano coffee and taking a sip. She was already running late for work, but the rich flavor of the coffee gave her a moment of calm. After finishing her coffee, she set the mug down and glanced at her mother, who was rummaging through the fridge. Ms. Elizabeth seemed to be searching for something specific. Finally, she found it—a small cupcake with a single pink candle on top.

Blair watched her mom with eager eyes, a smile spreading across her face as Ms. Elizabeth carefully placed the cupcake on a small plate. Even in the morning rush, her mom had remembered—she always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel special.

"Mum, I’m really running late today. Ms. Charlotte, our company’s president, is coming, and I can’t afford to be late," Blair said, glancing at the clock.

"Ms. Charlotte? Why is she coming?" Ms. Elizabeth asked, looking surprised. Blair was taken aback—she had told her mom just last night how important today was at work.

"Because today Mr. Ethan is taking over as the new CEO of Lopez Food Company," Blair explained.

"Well, being five minutes late won’t change much," Ms. Elizabeth said with a warm smile as she lit the candle on the cupcake. "I just wanted to make sure your day started with a little celebration."

"Mum, thank you," Blair said with a smile, quickly blowing out the candle, cutting a slice of the cupcake, and offering a bite to her mother. She then grabbed the rest of the cake and hurried outside, savoring each bite as she walked. The sweet frosting and soft cake brought back warm memories of past birthdays and the joy her mother always brought to those moments.

The streets were alive with the usual morning rush—cars honking, people chatting, and the city buzzing with energy. When Blair finally reached the office, she could feel the tension in the air. Everyone was moving quickly, clearly on edge. In her hurry, she accidentally bumped into someone but quickly apologized and made her way to her desk. She sat down, organizing her bag and gathering the scattered papers until everything was neat and in order.

Just as she settled in, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw another text message from Masson.

"Why did you arrive so late, Blair?" Evelyn's voice interrupted her thoughts as she tucked her phone away.

"Yeah, I overslept today. For some reason, my eyes just didn’t want to open this morning," Blair replied with a playful grin.

"Well, now the boss will make sure your eyes stay wide open," Evelyn said, her tone firm but teasing.

Evelyn had been a close friend since they met four years ago. In her late twenties, she had bright brown eyes and dark hair styled in soft curls that framed her face. Her smile was always warm and welcoming. From the moment they met, they had clicked instantly. They shared more than just a great sense of humor—their personalities complemented each other perfectly. Blair often talked about her latest baking experiments, while Evelyn listened with a gentle smile. They had similar tastes in music and movies, though Blair leaned more toward indie while Evelyn preferred pop and hip-hop. They both loved books, and Evelyn would often share sto