My Blondie

My Blondie

We have all heard that everyone has a twin living somewhere in the world. Occasionally they are as close as the next street, but more often than not, somewhere else in the world. Your twin is out there… someone who appears as if they share the exact same DNA as you! It’s crazy to think about, but 100% true as I am living proof of this theory!

This theory became reality to me, as the leaves began to change, in seventh grade. I was walking through the hallway of my new middle school when suddenly I saw myself in someone else’s shoes! It was as if I were looking in the mirror. My twin and I, stunned in amazement, couldn’t believe our eyes. We quickly became best friends... Two preteens that looked identical: had the same interests, hobbies, likes and dislikes... we were inseparable. Inseparable to the point in which our peers dubbed us “The Blondie Twins.”  

In the six years to follow, our friendship grew stronger. It was the beginning of our senior year which meant that our senior prom was fast approaching. My Blondie and I would spend hours talking about our senior prom and how great we were going to make it together. She and I, “The Blondie Twins,” would wear the same dress, carry the same flowers, and share the same memories… memories that we would reminisce about when silver laced our hair.

My Blondie and I were almost always joined at the hip. Well-rounded young women we were becoming. We enjoyed receiving straight A’s together, dominating sports together, and even working together! Most seniors thought we were crazy. They dreaded ending their school day only to begin their work night, but not my Blondie and me. We loved our school days and our work nights. We always had the same shifts, however decided to drive separately as we were both still eager to be in the driver’s seat.

The icy winter months of the New Millennium quickly approached. We had just ended our work shift and walked out to our cars when I realized there was something I failed to complete in the store. My Blondie headed to her home to turn in for the night while I headed back into work to complete my forgotten task. As I headed to my car for the second time, on this frost bitten night, a cold chill ran down my spine. As I was driving home, illuminations of red and blue lighted the path in front of me. As I grew nearer, the image of a blue sheet caught my eye. That blue sheet seemed to mask, what must have been, a sight only for the eyes of police officers and paramedics to see. Not thinking much more about it I continued my journey home.

As I was about to lay my head down to sleep, my phone rang. The other end held the trembling voice of my Blondie’s mother. Behind that blue sheet is where my Blondie took her last breath. She became prisoner to a thin black sheet of glass that spun her and spun her until she collided into a tall oak tree.

My world was shattered, my Blondie was gone. My grades started slipping and depression consumed my body. I secluded myself from the rest of the world spending most of the next few months lying in bed sleeping and seeing a therapist with no prevail. No prevail that is until the flowers began to bloom.