My knees buckle and I fall, not even lifting a finger to catch myself. I land in the soft grass, as Shera's grave was finished sixteen years ago and has grown as have the others. Tears threaten behind my burning eyes, and this time I let them. They roll down my cheeks while my facial expression is indifferent and my skin wouldn't be red if you painted it. "Shera," I whisper. "I love you. Please come back." Then the dirt rustles.
A pristine white hand busts through. The fingernails are uniform-shaped and painted black like mine. I grab the hand and pull my living sister out of the ground.
The dirt explodes and Shera, a girl who looks like a carbon copy of me, steps out. "Hello," I say. "Sister." "Sister? Were we separated at birth or something? Why was I buried?" Oh yeah. I forgot. She died in her first moments, so she doesn't know. "You died. In your first moments of life. I, your twin sister, lived to be sixteen years old until I was cursed and died. I awoke from the death and summoned you. Now you're alive too." Shera looks puzzled at my story. "How to I have the intellect and body of a sixteen-year-old, then?" she asks. "I guess you grew underground," I reply as best I can. "I'm starving. I haven't eaten in sixteen years, you know. Do you have anything to eat?" I grin. We just met and we're already perfectly twin-like. "I have loads." "Then let's eat." "Follow me."