Double Trouble

Hi, my names are Emma and this is Brooklyn Hughes. We're twin sisters. We are like one and another a lot an we both had to leave our home since our parents are not the best for eachother. One day, I met a curly haired boy named Harry, but little did I know my twin sister had as well, and the boy thinks we are the same person. How should I - I mean we - how should we tell him?

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31. Chapter 31:

 

Emma's POV

They left with Brooklyn again. It's like, I could never see her. We came here to forget the past, it came back. I just hope it all leaves.
"Harry and Louis are alright, they'll come check up on us soon." He paused for a while then continued. "So, we should probably head to the station." Niall said. Is he serious.
"Or not." I shrugged. I wasn't going, period.
"C'mon, don't you wanna be there for your sister." He pushed me a little.
"Yeah, but not for my dad. If I go there they're gonna end up interrogating me, and you.. And probably the rest of the boys. Do you really want that?"
"No, but you should be there for your sister."
"They'll call us, now lets go back home."
"Promise they'll call us?"
"Promise." It was weird. Promising something to Niall. Brooklyn would usually do that. But they will call us.

Brooklyn's POV

Going to the station was shit. I felt like some whole different person, and I didn't wanna be that person. I watched from the tiny enclosed window in the car. They were pulling dad out to go put him in some cell. For me, they guided me inside to a room, where they closed the door and told me to wait. I walked around the room impatiently, figuring answers in my head to what they were gonna ask me.

It had been ten minutes. I wanted to break the door down, instead I sat in the chair they supplied, and tapped my fingers on the table. Flipping through my diary Emma gave back to me, looking back when I was young. The door creaked, and someone came in.

An interrogator.

It wasn't any interrogator, it was someone I knew. Someone from my past. Ugh how I hate my past.
"Hi." She said sitting down. Memories flickered through my head faster than the ceiling lights in the room.
"Hi." I said.
"You're Brooklyn Hughes, right?"
"Yes." I decided to go with short responses.
"My name is Dr. Rosen."

Holy shit.

"Remember me? I was your old therapist."
"Mmhm, I remember." My mouth was almost about to drop. It was her. She had changed, people change.

*Beginning of flashback*

Mom found out that I was getting bruises-she didn't know it was dad that was giving them to me though- so she scheduled an appointment with a therapist.

I was 12, Emma was at her piano lesson, I missed my piano lesson for therapy.
"Hi." The therapist calmly said.
"You don't have to act like that, I can understand you." I said. She looked down.
"Oh okay." She continued. "So I her there has been some problems, you getting bruises out of the blue."
"Yeah."
"Can I see them?" I was very nervous to show her. I pulled down my sweats and lifted up my sleeves. Some were turning greenish-yellow, while others had just formed.
"Ahh, I see." She said pulling back into her chair.
"What?" I sat back down on the bean bag chair, slowly but painfully.
"Has there been any problems at the house?"
"No, I don't think so." I lied.
"Any at school?"
"No, not at all.." I grabbed my arm and stroked the other up and down, the soft wool touching my skin.
"Then what happened Brooklyn? How did you get these bruises?"
"You'll tell everyone." I said in a cranky/sad voice. "You'll tell mom and dad and Emma, they'll think Emma's better- she is too, Emma will tell everyone at school, everyone will bully me." Tears ran down my face. I let out my emotions
"No I won't, and that wont happen, ever. Your secret is safe with me." She let out her pinky.

*End of flashback*

I didn't let out my pinky that day, I didn't tell her - nor did I tell anyone else- it stayed the same. I got threatened by dad, more bruises and cuts.

Until now.

Everyone knew. I'm more mature- and I will stay more mature- , it's just, she's here. Was this the person who was going to help me?
"Brooklyn?" I found myself looking down at the table.
"Uh, yeah.?" I looked back up.
"What happened there? You can tell me."
"Well, the first time we met, I never told you about my bruises. They were from dad."
"I know now." I felt so embarrassed, in my pyjamas, with all these bruises he gave me the night before. Why the hell did this happen? When will this sadness stop!
"I kept on having these constant sessions with you, never telling you, I kept on letting out these.. Random emotions. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. I was fine with that, no matter how you said it or you didn't, I knew it was your father."
"How?" I whispered. I knew this was going to get recorded.
"You kept on talking about Emma, how they liked her instead of you, how dad would always do things with Emma. Then when you came home dad brought you to his bedroom to play. Then mom would call me up." Those words. They were all true.
"Yeah." That's all I said.
"You know, you could have those sessions again with me."
"No, I'm good. I've matured, I just wanna forget the past." I continued. "So, you can ask me those questions now." She looked confused.
"Questions? I don't ask you those." She got up. "That's someone else's job, but I have to go." She turned the handle
"Wait!" I said getting up. "Will I change?"
"No, tell yourself to be who you are."
"Okay." She left, was that the last time I would see my past? I turned around to see a card left on the table. Her business card. A smile spread across my face. I sat back down in the chair, waiting for someone else to come. No one.

I had been waiting 20 minutes, were they late or Something? Suddenly an officer walked in, it was Bruce again. He was like my mentor.
"Brooklyn," he said. I nodded. "You are free to go. We have everything we need."
"Okay." I said.
"They'll drive you home of you'd like."
"No thanks. Could you call my friends up and ask them to pick me up?"
"Sure." He was about to leave.
"And um.. Maybe some clothes too? It's very cold outside."
"What ever you'd like." He closed the door.

Great, stuck in here again. I'd might as well call it hell.

I looked around, a mirror, two chairs, a table and a doggy door I couldn't fit through. The officer knocked and threw some clothes in there. It was a pair of ripped jeans, a crop top and a vest. I was glad I was still wearing my converse.
I put the clothes on- afraid of being watched i stood in a corner- and looked in the mirror. I stared close. It was like looking through.. The looking glass. Was there something- or someone- on the other side?

I quickly forgot about that as this "Bruce" walked in again.
"You're free to go, they're here." He said.
"Thanks." I said.
"Thank you." I didn't respond. He thanked me probably for the information I gave them. Anyways, I walked out of the room and outside to find Emma and Niall in the car.
"Brooklyn!" She didn't get out and hug me this time. "C'mon! We've gotta get home and do something fun!"
"Oh my goodness.. Yes we do!" I hopped in the car. "I'm so glad to see you guys."
"Us too." Niall said. Emma started the car - I was glad she was driving - and we drove off. I reached to turn on the radio. 22 by Taylor Swift played. Me, Emma and Niall sang to it.
"I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 22! Everything will be alright, if you keep me next to you!!" We sang in sync. It was cool, knowing that Niall probably knew Taylor. But whatever, we were so happy right now. Harry and Louis were at their house, I was so glad to see them soon. Soon enough, I missed them. I was in the back seat, so I leaned forward and upside down, kissed Niall on the lips. We shared this inseparable moment. Things were back to where they started.

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