Poets, Mavericks & Prophets

This first thing Annie would do when she woke up in the morning was say hello to her dead twin. Even though she was dead, Carrie would hang around, and sometimes they would even have a peaceful cup of tea. Annie didn’t have much of a life, but she was crafty with the little bits she had, and hated having to share them with Carrie. But it seemed there was no way out of this, as you cannot kill off someone who’s already dead.

Annie would wander down Coldharbour Lane, popping into shops, pretending to be Carrie, all in the hopes of getting her arrested, and at least keep her out of the way for a little while. There was a particular shop she would frequent, a phone warehouse, with a hub for charging phones. This held some interest for Annie, as it made it difficult for people to just wander off if she got close to them – as they usually did.

Annie would hover about, stare steadily at people, not breaking eye contact, and considering her almost six-feet-tall frame, and wild bush of a hairdo, she would clearly make them somewhat uncomfortable. They could not budge, without leaving their phones unattended. There was some happiness to be had in this for Annie. Even though she annoyed and even disturbed the humans she interacted with, at least they weren’t dead.

When they called the manager to complain, Annie would blame Carrie. More often than not, they would both be thrown out.

Annie never believed she knew how to dress well, and all these years in the flat alone with her sister made her seem even more out of whack with the world. Annie was aware of this, and wanted to change, but never had money to buy a makeover, so she had to make do with what she had. Mostly her mother’s old clothes, which she put on with relish, as it was taboo to touch them while mum was still alive.

Her favourite was a long leopard print raincoat with a large golden pin, and as mum was much shorter than Annie, but rather rounder, the coat fit, but seemed shrunk. Annie looked as if she sprouted out of a leopard skin pelt and her feral qualities were thus accentuated. She would then visit the beauty products section at TK Maxx and spray on as much scent she could administer. Her sister Carrie always hated strong smells, so this was the motivation – keeping her twin at bay.

Mission accomplished, Annie would vanish in a puff of paranormal perfume, and wander the streets at fast pace, leaving the annoying Carrie far behind.

There were other ways, less direct, but giving her twin the vapour runaround was the cleanest of them. The meds didn’t do much except keep Carrie quiet, which was some relief, but she was there, and angrier at not being able to speak her mind. Her presence was constant, so getting away was a daily mission.

It’s not that Annie did not love Carrie, they were born together, they spent most of their time together, and when her sister was killed, Annie hid in her mother’s closet, the forbidden one, and three grown men could not pull her out.

She said she would only come out if Carrie came back, but they assured her this was an impossibility.

So Annie decided to prove them wrong. Especially to prove mother wrong, as she was the one who got rid of Carrie in the first place.

If mum did not make her sister leave with that man by hitting her and calling her a slut, Carrie would still be alive. She would have never got on that bike, she would have never taken to the pipe. She would never have beaten up Annie black and blue for her stash.

Carrie was a good girl, she turned bad because she would never let mum take her down.

But Annie knew, from very early on, that flat on the ground was the safest place to be.

This is why she left mother there, on the kitchen floor, when she had her attack in April, ten years ago, and did not call 999.

And, unlike Carrie, mum was now at peace.

Author: ©Milana Vujkov, Demolition Road: Annie & Carrie, 2022