by RubyLane

Created on: November 05, 2011   Last Updated: November 07, 2011

I am sitting in an undisclosed location confessing my guilt on paper.  I am a murderer,  a cold and calculated murderer.  

Motivation:   greed and jealousy.   Such enormous human failing and I encompass those shortcomings splendidly.  

 Sitting in my hideaway with three years of guilt gnawing at me, I suffer the knowledge that these hands and fingers that are typing away actually snuffed out a life, just like that – gone!   I suffer restless nights.  I have paranoia.   I sometimes have the urge of phoning Charlie my bother, and confessing.  I’m a mess and I thought money would have saved me, but all it has done is continuing a lie that’s got bigger and bigger.   I re-invented myself out of some novel complete with names of ex husbands, dead parents, sisters and brother living in another continent.   I actually constructed a skeletal formula of a novella complete with a family dog.

 So now is the truth.  

 I ran away from impending capture to a place that’s renown for fugitive land.  Even my adopted country’s ex prime minister is an outlaw himself – so in the country where Russian Mafia, Japanese Yakuza, worldwide thieves and international conmen hide, this 38 year old woman from Essex has gone underground living a lie for what seems eternal.  Some souls can endure their enormous guilt and make way for more guilt but for me, the demons come at me all hours of the day.

 I’m a twin.   I was born first.  My sister delayed her entry by 2 hours.  In everything else on the surface, we are mirror twins, talk with the same annotation, vocab;  we  finish each other’s sentences; our synchronized movements so attuned but there ends the similarities because she, much the virtuous girl, thinks and behaves from such a high moral ground.    Whereas me, when conception took place, in the jumble of cell division, I somehow got the criminal genes.  I know it, she knows it and somehow through our twin ship, she manages to totally disregard or even acknowledges my bad side.    It is almost as if the devil in her was hiding my evilness.   Whatever, I got the bad egg.

We had the usual childhood for twins.  Being paraded around, aunts uncles ogling at our uniqueness.  It was a circus affair I abhorred, sister obliged.  

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