The Story Untold

The misty clouds descended from the grey sky and soon stretched its arms covering the whole city of London with sadness and uncertainty. The growing factories started coughing black smoke that spread faster each passing day. Hence, it became a normality in our little corner of the world, but I felt that this smog was going to be out of the ordinary.

The whole family ignored the dark stratus clouds outside. They were too busy preparing my brother's wedding. “James Weatherby! Open your door, darling,” Mary complained in front of my room, “You need to try on your suit!”

“I would love to try on the suit, sweetheart, but I just can't replace my brother,” I answered as I leaned on the open door.

She replied, “I deeply apologize, dear. You are twi-”

“I know. Twins,” I interrupted her and closed the door immediately leaving her no time to talk back.

I dived into my cozy bed and started reading a book by J.D Salinger. Distraction was my only escape from her tempting invitations. Why did Father chose James? He was supposed to choose me for Mary White. He knew I was stronger. He knew I was better. He knew I was smarter. He knew I loved her more. He knew...

A woman kept shouting in front of my door breaking my train of thoughts. I opened the door once again and saw Mary's evil double standing irritably. “This is why my twin sister hates you,” Lalaurie pointed out, “well, it's either you try on your “dress” or you can think of a sweet plan t-”

“A plan! Lala, you finally used your brain for once! How does it feel?” I answered her happily.

Suddenly, she angrily pushed me further inside my room and hurriedly stomped her way out of my peripheral vision as she mumbled hatred words about me. I was too happy to notice her absence. Too th...

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...fe,” Lalaurie said heartlessly.

“ I guess birds of the same feather flock together, huh?” I told her nervously.

She looked at me with bewilderment and soon understood what I meant to say. She cried for her lost lover and I quickly followed her actions. We sat on the standard king bed and prayed for forgiveness to our misdeeds.

On December 9, 1952, the news had stated that the thick fog that was mixed with black smoke emitted from houses and factories had killed a thousand people and was still counting. Our family members never found where the real James Weatherby's and Mary White's corpses lied cold and still and soon gave up on the case.

As for my hateful wife and I, we tried live normally among the others. No one knew what happened. No one ever pointed their finger on us. No one ever doubted to be the evildoers because our story was never been told until now.