I woke abruptly in a pool of sweat. Slowly, I rose from my bed and made my way over to the bathroom. My hands clenched at my side as I replayed the events of my dream. I watched Fred's death over and over again. Over and over again I watched my twin die. Every time this happened it felt like a piece of me died too. I stood in front of the mirror, my hands gripping the edge of the sink so hard I worried it might break. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could live like this. Then again, was it really living if it felt like there was a gaping hole where your heart used to be. Tears welled in my eyes and they threatened to fall. I held them back. I didn't want to cry again. I looked up at my reflection and cringed. My skin was paperwhite and it looked like I hadn’t slept in weeks, which was kind of true. It’s been getting harder and harder to drag myself out of bed each morning when all I wanted to do was close my eyes and forget anything bad ever happened. No one understands what I'm going through. It’s not the same when you lose your twin. We were two halves of one soul and when one half dies, the other goes with it. I splashed cold water on my face as I tried to clear my head. Fred wouldn’t want this. He would remind me that he couldn’t have died in a better way. He died laughing and I tried to remember that as I lay back down and let sleep take me.