I grew up an only-child, in a lonely old house in the country; my father often away on business, my mother sickly and unable to attend.
But, the funny thing is, I’ve never felt alone. That’s because I wasn’t alone – even though there were no other children in the house – I always had someone to play with. There was a little boy, an older boy that was his brother, and a little girl that looked quite a bit like me.
The girl’s name was Abigail – and she and I were the best of friends. There were a good number of other children too, but these children – Abigail, the little boy Michael, and the older boy Johnathan – were the ones I played with the most.
My mother often told me that I should stop playing with my imaginary friends; it made her uncomfortable; but she didn’t see them herself.
Abigail was a ginger, like me, blue-gray eyed, and she wore clothes that I already owned. The boys were wearing ugly coarse things that were out of fashion. The funny thing is, in my isolation, I never did stop seeing Abigail and the boys until I left the house – the year my mother died of a heart attack. She had always avoided questions about why she hadn’t given me any brothers or sisters to play with, but it was on that day that she finally saw Abigail.
We were sitting in the kitchen, and my mother looked from me to Abigail, dropping the dishes that she held in her hands – and sinking into a seat – the one farthest from Abigail and I – since the two of us were still impossible to distinguish from one and other – I was sixteen at the time – and Abigail had aged with me. But, the other children hadn’t – none except Abigail, Michael, and Johnathan – that is.
My mother’s frightened eyes flickered from my face to Abigail’s and then she screamed – bringing my father down the stairs in a thunder of heavy boots. But, he saw nothing at all. My mother kept saying, in this hysteric way, “She’s here, she’s here, oh! I’m so sorry Abigail, I’m sorry Adeline!” And the paramedics took her to the hospital, thoroughly confused, and a bit uncomfortable, with the circumstances of her awful state.
Abigail and I reached across the table, palms pressed together, then hands held tight, clasped together with the other’s – each comforting the other. You see, to me, Abigail was – and still is – very real; just as real as my mother was, and as real as my father is.
The day my mother died was the day I learned of my twin sister – dead at birth.
Sent in by Adeline McBeth, Copyright 2010
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nice story,thats sad that ur twin died but its happy that u see her.sorry about your mom.that is a good story.the thing is who are those 2 boys?if the girl is ur twin then what about the boys.let me know.thanks.
hiii adeline,
thats a very sad and heart touching story. m sorry for your mom, m wondering how a spirit can age? can any one explain ? waiting to hear.
Hi Adeline,
First of all, I want to say how sorry I am to hear of your mom’s passing. OMG! So the girl was your twin sister who had died at birth. I am wondering who the two boys were. But anyway, great story. Thank you for sharing. It gave me goosebumps!
I really liked your story I am sorry about your mothet DO YOU YOU STILL SEE your twin sister any more or the two boys
A spirit CAN age at time if they have found peace and comfort. I’ve had the same thing kinda with myself, but I haven’t seen Sarah in God knows when .. but, I see her in my dreams. And it’s as real as real can be, <3
thanks zozo
and i want to take the precious time me readers i want to ask you something …
I am 19 years old (m) and living on a rented house with a roomate and doing my engineering studies. Few days ago of my friends came to my room (we have two rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom) we were playing cards in my room which is nearer to the kitchen and bathroom and suddenly one of my friend (anil) saw a figure in yellow shirt going to kitchen, we have our front door locked from inside and all friends were in my room. After that we went to kitchen and bathroom to check and found no one. After that few days later that same friend of mine saw the same entity again in my kitchen after that he feared to visit our room. I have never seen that entity but in kitchen i feel like someone watching me. I also sleep talk in strange foreign language as per my roommate. do i need to be alert or everything is okay? please help.
thats weird.ask around about the room,if anything happpened in it.for me and that only me talking i maybe wouldnt do anything if its not doing anything to you.but like i said thats me.and talking in your sleep i have no idea i have never heard of that before.sorry im no help but do let us know what happens
-great story, who are the other boys? you should ask your father.
-your story sounded like the horror movie of i think its Japanese but translated in English,the tittle is “twin sister”.
-there are lots of horror movies out there just like your story. hope its true, coz i like it.
Who were the two boys? Cool story btw, i always wished i had a twin.
I think they may have been her friend that she had made when she died*
omg sooo sad about her twin