Debut Flash: 'Sororal' by Becka White

We’d always been each other’s alibis and this time was no different. We’re twin sisters, it’s what you’d expect.

As kids, if she needed an excuse not to be somewhere, or I’d said I’d been somewhere I hadn’t, our sibling secret-holder was at the ready. One time I even called in sick for her – as her. It helped that our voices are identical even though we’re not. In French, we’re known as ‘false twins’. Fausses jumelles. That irritates me. We’re as true as can be.

When Social Services phoned to check that my sister and her newborn were staying with me, I said of course they were. Someone knocked on once too but I knew how to handle it. The baby meant the world to her. She’d just had a rough time, what with the PND and her ex. And when he kept phoning to check they were with me, I said of course they were. He must’ve known they weren’t though cos I saw his car parked a few doors up. More than once. And I could’ve sworn I saw him walking past the flat early one morning, but when I texted my sister she said I was being paranoid.

It’s like she told me, I’ll always be a mum, whatever happens. I’ll always be a twin even if she’s not here. True twins. I could’ve done with being bit less true and a bit more truthful but there’s no point thinking about that now.  

Our parents weren’t up to much to be honest, but to have a twin, to be a twin – now, that’s special. And luck like that makes up for a lot.

In English we're known as fraternal twins. ‘Like brothers’. That annoys me too. There’s an equivalent word for sisters but no one uses it.