WARNING: Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear
“Carter, I don’t understand why I can’t drive the car! We’re twins for Christ’s sake! I should’ve gotten my license the same day as you!” Megan says, clearly annoyed that I have to drive her to practice.
“First, Megan, you can barely park without severely injuring someone, and actually, I’m two minu-“
“Yeah, yeah two minutes older than me. Big deal! You don’t have to be all high and mighty about it!”
“Well you don’t have to be such a brat all the time, Megan! You should be grateful that I’m generous enough to even take you to your stupid dance classes!”
“They aren’t stupid, Carter! And who the hell said I wanted you to take me anyway in your ugly, old, run down car?!”
Little did I know that I would regret what I was about to do for the rest of my life.
“Fine Then, Get out and walk, we’re ten minutes out. Go on, it’ll be good exercise.” It wasn’t exactly my smartest idea, seeing that downtown Chicago isn’t exactly the ideal place for a seventeen year old girl to go walking to dance class, but I didn’t care, I was too annoyed.
She glared at me with an unruly rage, and yelled about how much she hated me, but started to gather her things. I watched solemnly as Megan unbuckled her seatbelt and reached down to grab her dance equipment. I turned back and stared at the steering wheel.
“Carter, watch out!” Megan screamed.
I only had time to glance at Megan, and see the fear prominent in her eyes. When I looked at the rear view mirror it was already too late, and the semi was connecting with my old Ford.

It was the impact that shocked me. My truck merged with the semi behind us, mutilating it. And Instead of the airbags deploying like they were supposed to, my head slammed into the steering wheel and an unimaginable pain coursed through my body. I felt blood trickle from my nose as my head jerked back and hit the seat.
For a while it was silent, but then I heard Megan’s screaming. Sharp, piercing, agonizing screams that made my ears ring. I looked at Megan, and was terrified to see her bloodied head, through the windshield, and her arms bent at impossible angles. Her blonde hair, matted with blood. How could this have happened? Megan’s screams began to fade and my vision faded to black as a paramedic sprinted up to our car.
”Carter, wake up.”
My eyes fluttered open. I was confused and groggy. When I tried to get up to stretch sharp pains erupted throughout my whole body.
“Honey, just lay back down, you’re hurt” my mom pleaded.
I looked around to see I was in a hospital bed, and there was an IV stuck in my arm. I tried to remember what had happened, but all I could remember was Megan and I in the car fighting about something stupid on the way to her dance class. It was a dumb argument, and I should’ve just stuck it out. But something was pressing on the back of my mind, something important.
“Mom, what happened?” I questioned.
Her dark eyes burned with tears as she struggled to answer me. “You and Megan were in a serious car crash. A semi-truck hit you from behind while you were stopped” She choked the words out like they were poisonous, and began to sob.




















Hard, racking, sobs that seemed to burst from her chest.
My mom is the strongest person I know. It was unusual to see her in this state.n I didn’t know why she was so upset, I was fine, and Meg was probably at her dance practice.
“Mom, I’m sorry, I’ll pay for the insurance if you wa-”
Then, I remembered the accident.
Every bit of it.
It was all my fault.
“Mom, is Megan alright?!” I almost yell at her.
Instead of answering, she cried even harder.
“Mom, I need to know! Is Megan okay?!” I’m screaming at her now.
She shook her head no.
“Carter, your s-sister’s head went t-through the windshield. There was blood ev-everywhere, and so much glass..she’s on the third floor.” I was frozen. I knew what the third floor meant. She took a deep breath. “They don’t know if she’ll make it..”
The guilt eats me alive. This is all my fault. If Megan dies, her blood is on my hands, and that is something I can’t take. Pulling the IV out, I get up, despite the excruciating pain and intense throbbing in my head. I can’t think straight. I run down the long corridor to the nearest elevator, dizzy already. The door opens and I half run-half collapse in. I take the time to clear my head, and breathe.
As the elevator door opens, I see nurses rolling Megan in a stretcher.
She isn’t moving.
There’s a sheet over her head.
I start to panic. I sprint towards her stretcher, ignoring the pain, just focusing on getting to Megan. A doctor stops me.
“Oh, you must be I’m sorry Mr Darnell, I’m so sorry to say this, but Alisia didn’t make it.”
relief floods through me, guilty relief, but relief nonetheless.
I went to ask a nurse what room my sister was in, and my heart stopped at the number. C 132. It’s happening again.
As I sit on the side of the corridor I think “What am I going to tell mom if she dies?” I can’t imagine life without her, always bugging me, arguing with me over the dumbest things, it would never be the same. All the times we’ve had together, the good and the bad, are all some of the best memories of my life.
I can still remember the way she looked after dad died. Although we were only six and a half, we understood the concept that dad was never coming back. She used to sit on the swing set he built for her and just stare out into space, with those questioning green eyes, my dads of course. He was always asking questions, never wanting to be out of the loop. Megan sat there everyday after school and just sat. Sometimes I would even see her crying silently. She was never one to express her feelings, she always kept them bottled up, or maybe she just didn’t feel sadness.

It’s my fault dad was gone. I knew it, mom knew it. Meg was the only one that didn’t know. I was in the car when he crashed. it was all my fault, and now it’s happening again. I can’t let it happen again.

I remember the time when she had been asked to snowball, then her date stood her up. She was trying to stay strong, trying not to collapse and cry, but I knew her better. I called and cancelled my date, saying that something came up, and took her to her favorite ice cream parlor. She had strawberry vanilla swirl. I can still remember the way her half smiling face looked with the cooled cream on it. I remember the way she would lick her upper lip, trying to get the strawberry treat off. The way she looked at me, like I was the best brother in the world.
I think back to probably the worst memory I have ever had. Our big fight.
I think we were around fifteen, seven or eight years after dad died, and I had taken her favorite teddy bear. I wanted to was it because I couldn’t stand how dingy and gross it looked. I wanted it to be a surprise when she came home, to see her old teddy bear looking all brand new. This stuffed toy was so special to Megan. Dad gave it to her on her 5th birthday and she’s kept it ever since. I put it in the washing machine, put the detergent in, I didn’t know how much to add, so I put in about three lid fulls in. Then I pressed the light load button and started it. I was such an idiot. Megan came home before it was finished washing, and noticed immediately that it was gone. She searched everywhere for her beloved bear, and I hear the loud screech of the washing machine, signaling that my surprise was almost ready. I opened the machine expecting to pull out a nice, clean teddy bear, but instead I pulled out a ragged, ripped, clump of stuffing and fabric. I turned around to see Megan, gaping at her once favored bear, with tears in her eyes. She hit me, and screamed at me, and told me she hated me about a billion times. The words cut deep into my flesh, and each hateful word she said ripped me open more and more. I felt terrible. I felt like I had taken the last piece of dad, and destroyed it. I had taken her piece of our father, and completely abolished it. I don’t think Megan ever forgave me for that. Not completely, at least.
I concentrate on every lingering memory I have of Megan, whether it is a pleasant or unpleasant one. I concentrated on her living. I couldn’t bear it if she died. It would rip my heart out. The guilt is still there, just gnawing away at me, but not as painful. I know it’s my fault, I can’t deny that, and I won’t. It just seems like, if I am able to see her one last time. Just be able to see my twin sisters glistening, green eyes, and faint smile, I feel like that is all I need.
I look up and see the doctor. He nods at me, tells me she isn’t doing well at all .I nod in response, and walk, cautiously, into the hospital room, not wanting to startle Megan.
“I’ll give you two a little privacy, but I’ll be back in ten minutes to check up on you, okay Megan?” He sounds he has already prepared for her to die, I think to myself. Megan nods weakly and he shuts the door. I look at Megan, all battered and bruised, and can’t help but feel solely responsible for this. If I hadn’t been an idiot and stopped the car, Megan wouldn’t be like this, not at all.
“Megan..” I began, not quite knowing how to apologize for almost killing her. ”I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made you get out. Its My fault you’re like this and im so-.”
“Carter.” She whispered. “Just..stop. I know you’re sorry and I forgive you. How would you have known something like this would happen?” She looks away, and I wonder if she’s trying to bite back the tears. “I asked the doctor to be honest with me, and he says he will do anything and everything he can to make sure I make it out okay, but he says my chance of living is slim to none.” She turns around, and I see the silent tears I saw all those years ago on the swing set when our father died.
“Megan I..” I start, but she cuts me off. She looks about ready to give up.
“Just make sure momma knows I love her, and take care of her for me. Make her breakfast on occasion, and give her the love I won’t be able to. Know that I love you Carter, even though we fight and argue, you’re still the best brother I could ever have.”
I’m speechless. I want to tell her how much I love her, how she’s gonna be fine, and how I’ll always be there for her. I want to hold her and tell her that everything is going to be all right. Instead I concentrate on her IV.
Then the tears began flowing down her face, and mine too. She’s now sobbing, loud, hard wails,that would wake any patient in a one mile radius. She suddenly begins shaking uncontrollably. It takes me a long time to realize that she’s having a seizure. Too long.
Suddenly her shaking stops, she looks at me and mouths her final goodbye, and the small light there was left in her bright green eyes is dull. I don’t need the heart monitor to tell me she’s gone. I sit in the chair next to her, my arms wrapped around myself, silent tears falling down my face. Now I know how Megan felt when dad died. She felt like she was alone. Like she was missing a part of her own self. Now I’m in the same position as her. I’m stuck, I lost the best sister I could ever of had. It may have seemed like we hated each other, but we were like the warning on a rearview mirror, we were closer than we appeared.