Free Pinprick by Matthew Cash

hypocritical when it came to his opinions over how his sister was changing.
    Eventually, sleep draped its satin veil over his consciousness.
     
    *
     
    A heart shaped distortion, fleshy and pink, came to focus in his dream. As it cleared, it formed the figures of two newborn babies. Everything about them appeared normal; they had their arms around each other’s shoulders like a couple of best friends sharing a secret. The babies were girls. At the pelvis they were fused together like they had tried to melt into one. They were beautiful. Perfect.
    Then there was a sea of green operating sheets. Surgical equipment. People in masks with scalpels and eager eyes. Catherine, Jack and his parents were all wearing hospital overalls, their wide, horrified eyes staring at him.
    A tiny exposed square cut open in the green sheets revealed the two tiny torsos of the babies. He moved close to the table and noticed a scalpel in his hand. A petite female surgeon standing opposite fixed him with a stare and nodded encouragingly for him to proceed. As Shane’s hand lowered toward the skin he caught his reflection in the blade and was surprised to see he had his green mohican back. He felt the scalpel press against the skin, droplets of blood grew along each side of the blade as a squeal of such high capacity seared through his skull so that his vision went white and he dropped to his knees.
    His hands were covered in blood. His sister screamed hysterically in the arms of his mother and Jack. His father glared at him with pure hatred, his index finger pointing accusingly like a loaded weapon. Surgeons were running frantically backwards and forwards with fistfuls of bloodied gauze. Shane fell to the floor, and watched horror-struck as a small crowd circled around him, casting him into shadow. The parents of his lost friends towered above him, spat in his face and chanted.
    “Murderer! Murderer!”
    His father’s voice boomed over everything.
    “This is all your fault! If only you could remember what happened!”
    The crowd closed in. Light flashed off the scalpels they were thrusting at him.
     
    *
     
    Shane woke with a start; a sheen of sweat coated his forehead. He rubbed his hands over his face and with that the last embers of his nightmare blew away. Daylight crept from above the curtains and lit up the clock on the wall. It was half past seven and he knew his parents would have had their breakfast by now. He pulled on yesterday’s jeans and t-shirt and then made for the telephone.
    His mother answered in her usual put on posh phone voice.
    “Good morning.”
    Shane cleared his throat stifled a yawn.
    “Hey Mum, its Shane.”
    “Oh it’s you. How were your exams? Have you tried phoning before? Was it last night? Oh what a night we’ve had! We didn’t get home until almost two thirty, can you believe it?”
    Shane opened his mouth to answer–
    “I’ve still not done my hair or dressed for the day, your father’s gone to the shop for bread as we haven’t even had a chance to get a bite of food. I think we’ll just have to make sandwiches to take with us.”
    As ever Shane’s mum was doing that uncanny thing that takes a certain type of person to achieve; talking excessively without to pausing for breath. Her other talent was her ability to quick fire questions at people and either answer them herself or just not wait for an answer at all. It was okay. He was used to it.
    “As for Jack and Catherine, well, as you can imagine they’re exhausted the poor things, hardly any sleep. Now, you’ll want to know about the twins, I dare say. They’re okay, they’re alright. The doctors have done a wonderful job but it took a very long time. It was touch and go for a bit as they both lost a lot of blood but now they look lovely. They say, because they are babies it won’t take them long to mend and then the only way you’d ever know they were joined will be a scar down their sides.
    “I’m sure when you speak to Catherine and