The Twin Who Chose Death

Summary

I was a twin. I made it out—took the first breath, got the first coo. My brother, Ben, didn’t. He was gone before they even cut the cord.

My mother, unable to have more children, gave me every ounce of the love she had saved for two. It was a beautiful, crushing kind of devotion.

On my birthday, Mom and Dad bought two cakes: one pink, one blue.

When it came to toys, if I chose a Barbie, they would always insist on getting a G.I. Joe.

For school pictures, I’d be dressed like a sweet princess one year, and then like a handsome little prince the next.