Original Fiction >> Thriller >> My Other Half
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I immediately broke down crying. I couldn't handle it. That day was just... traumatizing.
"It's okay, Ollie. You'll be fine. We can do this another day." Ryan tried to comfort me.
"No. No, no, no. I have to do this today." I sniffled. "I wont be able to do it ever again. I have
to do this today."
"Oliver, you're hysterical. Come on, let's go home."
"No!" I got up. "I want to do this today. I want to know this 'secret' that my mom had. I need to
Ryan hesitated. "Okay."
I forced myself to walk over to the closet door and open it. It was empty. There was nothing there
but a piece of string.
Ryan came over to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Sorry, buddy."
"No. No, no, no. There's something. I know it. Bea wouldn't do this to me."
"What do you mean, Bea? She's gone, Ollie! You're crazy! You need to go back to therapy."
"I'm not crazy! I swear! There's something here, and I need to figure out what it is." I reached
down for the string.
"It's just a piece of string, dude. Let it go."
I pulled it and a hole appeared in the back wall.
"'Just a piece of string?'" I asked, quoting him.
"Okay... maybe its more than string."
I crawled to the back of the closet to the hole. There was a box. A little black Converse shoebox.
I took it out and lifted up the lid.
"What is it?" Ryan asked.
"Shut up, Ryan."
I pulled out letters and pictures, with dates from a long time ago.
The first letter was for my mom. It was from a guy named Frank. It didn't say his last name and I
could barely read the handwriting. The next letter was form the same person and for my mom again.
All of them were.
I looked at one of the pictures. It was my mom, kneeling down next to a little kid who looked
exactly like me, and kind of like Ryan. Only he had brown eyes. I have blue eyes. They looked happy.
He had a popsicle and had no idea what was going on but he still looked happy.
The next picture showed the same kid and my mom. This time, she was reading to him.
Who was this kid? It's definitely not me.
Ryan crawled in behind me, obviously too curious to care about the fact that this closet was too
small for two people to be in at one time.
"Hey! That kid looks like you! Except, his eyes are different." Ryan pointed out.
"Yeah I know. He looks kinda like you, too..."
"Who is he?"
"I don't know, Ryan. Can you read these?" I asked, handing him the messy letters. He started
reading them silently.
"Woah. Dude. You're mom was a whore."
"Oh wow, thanks."
"No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that, I mean, she cheated on your dad, dude. See? This Frank guy
keep telling her how this kid in the picture is doing in school and stuff. Dude. I think that kid's
I was silent.
"I don't have a brother." I mumbled.
"Yeah you do. I know it's hard to believe but you do. It says his name is... Ryan..."
"Stop fucking around, Ryan! It's not funny!" my voice got a little louder.
Ryan put his hand on my back. "Oliver... I'm serious. See?" he showed me the letters and I read
them silently. It was Ryan.
I sighed, "If you're my brother, how come we didn't know?"
"I don't know. Maybe your mom never wanted you to find out that she cheated on your dad with
There it was. The big secret. I have a brother. Ryan.
"I'm bringing these home with me. I'll see if Grandma Mae knows anymore about this."
We went downstairs and out the front door in silence and got into the car quietly. Then Ryan
"What?" I whispered as Derrick pulled out of the driveway.
"Look. Derrick's got lipstick all over his face, and Ellie's got a big assed hickey on her neck and
her shirt's unbuttoned all the way." he whispered to me. We burst out laughing.
"Shut up faggots!" Derrick yelled back at us. "What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing. I just told him a joke." Ryan replied.
"Yeah, yeah." Derrick said.
He dropped me and Ryan off at my house and then sped off. We couldn't open the front door or
Grandma would realize we snuck out, so we had to crawl through the window. This is probably one of
the funniest things we've ever done, considering the fact that tight pants aren't the best thing to
climb through windows in.
"Dude." Ryan whispered, halfway through the window.
"Nuh uh. Stop fooling around, Ryan and get in the house."
"No, man, I'm serious." He said, which was followed with a pelvic thrust which I don't think was
entirely necessary but whatever.
"Just get in. I got through just fine."
"No! Look!" he pointed to his butt pocket which was stuck on a nail hanging from the windowsill.
"How'd you do that?!"
"I don't know! I'm just stuck!"
"Okay, on the count of three, I'll pull and you push the edges of the window."
"Ready? One... two... three!" I pulled his legs and he pushed against the window. Ryan flew into
the room, knocking me over onto my butt. He landed on the floor and hit his head against it.
"Ugh! Ow. That hurt." he said, got up, and brushed himself off. "Is there anything on my back?" he
asked and turned around so I could see the giant hole in his pants. I tried really hard not to laugh
but every time I opened my eyes, I saw his pink boxers with lightening bolts all over them, staring
"What's so funny?" he asked. I just kept laughing. He turned around in a circle, trying to get a
good look at his butt, but he just looked like a dog chasing his tail. "I don't get it!"
I laughed harder. "Y-y-your pants! Bwahahahahaha!"
He walked into the bathroom and looked at his butt in the mirror. He must've seen the hole because
he started to laugh too.
Then, a light went on upstairs and we fell silent, and stood still, staring at each other like deer
caught in headlights.
"Ollie? Is that you, dear?" Grandma Mae asked from the top of the stairs.
"Uhh... yeah Grandma. I just uh... dropped something. I'm going back to bed now. Night." I
"Oh okay. Don't stay up too late now."
"We wont, Grandma."
We heard her slippers shuffle across the carpet at the top of the stairs and her bedroom door close
"That was close." Ryan whispered.
"Yeah. Let's just go to bed."
"Okay." Ryan replied. Then we got into our sleeping bags and fell asleep
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The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.
Please see the Terms of Service for more information.