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Pink or Black (standard:mystery, 847 words)
Author: FrenZyAdded: Jan 20 2007Views/Reads: 2247/1248Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This one had been written and published in nearly 2 years ago.

In our state there is a pair of extraordinary twins, whom we never have
difficulty in differentiating. I am personally irritated when the proud 
parents ask us to differentiate between two beaming twins, each with 
the other's smile, each acting exactly like the other. Kayla and 
Kristin are a different case. 

They might be born within the same four minutes of the same hour, day,
month and year, but they are like dark and light, sun and moon, or land 
and sea. They are Kayla and Kristin. 

Kayla is the older of the two, but Kristin often takes care of her like
a bigger sister. Kristin likes to wear pink. It might be possible she 
would change her name to Pinkie if she could. Everyday she wears 
something pink, or very often, pink from head to toe. She is sweet and 
a social butterfly - the girl of every man's dream and every woman's 
nightmare. The other girls think of her as a pink freak. Imagine how 
freaky it is to see a girl wearing pink loafers, pink stockings, pink 
leggings underneath the pink skirt, and a pink shirt with matching pink 
accessories. But they should admit no one can looks better in pink than 

Kayla, on the other hand, is a follower of Gothic fashion. She wears
black, just the way Kristin wears all pink, but she wouldn't want to 
change her name to Blackie. Kayla is quiet and often snappish. She 
hangs out with the big bullies, if not, she is often alone. She smokes, 
and has tattoos that she is not afraid to show. On the day she decided 
to use black lipstick, she was declared The Freak. 

But fashion style is not the only differentiating factor between Kayla
and Kristin. 

Kristin is afraid of spiders, Kayla is afraid of make up. 

Kristin is good at Mathematics, Kayla is the talented one in Art. 

Kristin is a faithful Christian, Kayla is an atheist. 

Kristin likes to visit her neighbors with a basket of fruits in her
arms, Kayla likes to bang on their doors and run away, just for the fun 
of it. 

Kristin is like a flower, Kayla is like the bee. 

No one has a greater bond than them, however. Kayla is the only person
who can understand Kristin, and vice versa. 

This morning during Art class, the headmistress paid a visit to our
class. Her expression was hard to read, her face masked with anxiety. 

“The twins were involved in a car accident.” 

The class went hysterical. The buzzing of people's voices was filled
with the excitement of new rumors, hushed with the tones of 

“One of the twins passed away an hour ago.” 

Now everyone else is out the door. I look at Mya, one of the girls who
resents the twins. Because once, Kayla slapped her for making fun of 
Kristin, and because Kristin hooked up with Mya's crush. “Who do you 
think passed away?” I murmur quietly. Pink or black. 

She shrugs. “Both of them, hopefully.” I can't respond to her nasty


Two weeks later, Kristin comes into the room, but without her usual
grace. Her complexion is pale, unlike her usual flushed self. Her steps 
are clumsy, her skirt a little too loose, her smile reluctant. 


It has been a month since Kayla died. I am drowning in curiosity. As the
school magazine editor, I want to find good material to put in the 

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