FIRST PERSON

Am I killing my sister or killing myself? For twins such as us, joined, as we are by a stubborn knot of skin and organs and as inseparable as any pair of girls could be, killing one invariably leads to the death of the other. That's complicated the issue of suicide and murder in my mind, forcing the two ideas to become just as linked as Becca and myself are, but it's still my hope that I might untangle these two actions sometime before I finally free ourselves from each other by way of freeing us from ourselves. Am I a murderer or a mere victim of biology gone wrong? Am I my sister's keeper, or is my life my own to take, even if it means hers as well?

In the end, I suppose it depends on whether or not she forgives me for what I am about to do.

SECOND PERSON

You're Sandra Miller, one half of an imperfect pair of sisters joined as much by your love for each other as by a shared liver, and you've decided to kill yourself. Too bad your unique situation means that suicide isn't the solitary affair that it should be, and that even your trip to the afterlife will mean taking along your constant companion. It's this knowledge that gives you pause before that final step and, though you'd never openly admit this to yourself, you can't fully deny the irony of her, of all things, being what stops you. After all, it was Becca who brought you here.

No, not Becca, but you, or maybe a simple rule of human interaction. Growing up with her by your side made your situation more bearable, but you're adults now, and just as you've become bored with every other relic of your childhood, you find yourself growing tired of your first friend. It's not hate, not yet, but you see it becoming so with time. You see yourself resenting recurring jokes, the way she breathes, and the way talking to her is like looking in a mirror when the thing you hate most is your own reflection, and most of all the way she holds you back. You'll grow to covet the space she takes up, and wish it were yours to make empty.

So deep down inside, you know you need to end this now. You need to kill yourself before the only relationship you have falls apart, even if it means killing Becca, and even if that's kind of like murder. You need to do it now rather than ten years from now, because ten years from now it WILL be murder, and you'll be killing her first not to spare her the grief, but to taste the silence between her death and yours and imagine a life in that fashion.

THIRD PERSON

Sandra Miller is thinking about killing her sister, but she won't go through with it.

No, she isn't going to change her mind. She could review the case a thousand times and come to the same conclusion; that there is no silver lining to the cloud that hangs over her life with Becca. While the two were once joined twice over, first through flesh and second through sisterhood, the years have been harsh to the latter link to the point where it is only a bond of miscellaneous meat and an overtaxed liver that keeps the two close as, in their hearts, they drift further apart. Yes, the sad truth is that relationships born of genetic mishaps are no stronger than any other and that, just as a friendship or marriage might come to an end, so too may a union forged at birth. And yes, there is no mistaking it. The time has come for this to end. It won't be Sandra who writes the conclusion, however, but rather Becca.

Maybe it was self-absorption that prevented Sandra from seeing in her sister the same thoughts she finds in herself, or perhaps imagining Becca as a victim made it impossible to view her as anything else. Regardless, the fact is that Sandra underestimated her sister's capacity to see the conflict within the woman beside her, much less take it upon herself to spare her best friend the burden of deciding.

And so a murder-suicide will be the last gift Becca ever gives to Sandra, with the tragedy being that Sandra will never, at least in this life, learn what her sister did on her behalf. It'll be as clean as possible, for the benefit of anyone who might stumble upon the scene and the emergency services that will follow. Hopefully they'll view the scene without judgment or the sort of dark humor that has come into fashion of late. Hopefully they'll be able to recognize the act for what it was, an act of love, and understand that the ghastly form love must sometimes take does not diminish it in the least.