Forest Jacobs had a twin.  

Though neither of them were blood related or even related by marriage, they had a connection that they believed was stronger than either of those: they shared the same name.  Aside from their middle initials, up until the spelling of their first and last names, they were the exact same person.  They relied on their physical differences to set them apart in public but embraced their similarities as a sign to stick together.  From 10th grade on, they declared their friendship a best friendship, better than brotherhood, bigger than bromance—an immortal pact of achievements and honor.  

Forest James, with an Irish confidence and stature that fit his red hair and blue eyes, was the first to approach Forest Elliot, in the halls of Warren High School of St. James Township, in the spring of 2004.  Forest James was cocky, calculated, and appeared to have each and every student in his reigns, from his appealing accent all the way from Cork, Ireland, to his charm with the American ladies.  Still, his material assets were less impressive than they really were—after all the popularity he was presumed to possess, he still lacked that solid base of friendship that he had left Ireland for and had not yet found in the states.  This gave Forest James an almost unrealistic ability to be kind to each and every person who either approached him or he approached himself, usually the latter.  

One of them, as important as Forest James himself, was his other half—Forest Elliot.  Hair as dark as the sleek SUVs that lined their high school and “a soul just as black,” wrote one brave columnist from the Warren High newspaper, Forest Elliot was just as popular as Forest James, just in a different way.  He was known as the devil of secondary school, the charming and cunning boy possessing a great skill of persuasion and induced fear whenever necessary.  He had no friends, apparently because he needed none.  The student body was so content to make up Forest Elliot’s character that they forgot to do any reasonable amount of research—if they had, they might have found that Forest Elliot had a history of inattentiveness in elementary school, rebelliousness in junior high, and had just decided to try out a radical persona in high school.  He actually enjoyed art and the prettier things of life, one of them being the object of his affections—the notorious Cece Marasco, blonde and beautiful and a walking stereotype but who, Forest Elliot knew, only needed to break free of her claimed status and become her own person.  Just like Forest Elliot and, soon to be learned, Forest James, as well.  

She has spoken with a thousand microphones to her lips

She presses against them 

Anxious for the world

To Hear her 

Breath

and Breathe

She has spoken with children in her lap

and the book in front of her

Will teach them the 

ways

of the World

She has spoken, in one tiny gust of air, a small apology to the ones who 

did Her wrong

Never pausing to consider

If that “sorry” should be directed to 

her

She has spoken on the Eve of the Night of Tomorrow 

And she has taken into every atom of herself

The “now” that reigns her in at her lungs

She will not speak, soon, 

Being without her abilities to possess a rigid viewpoint on all matters

But just like the magic 

of 

the Ocean and Ice, 

If you listen closely, 

Just at the perk of your ear, 

At the creation of another day, 

And with the Gentle confines of the elderly with which they hear Heaven’s call, 

A small voice may rise above the rest

And speak secrets in a hushed whisper as if life had never 

Ended. 

I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. I don’t love you, I always will. 

You’ve been hit by a smooth criminal.