The Boy, The Girl

Once there was a boy who never really slept, and a girl who never woke up. Twins, brother and sister, one born screaming - the other born in a coma. Born on the same day, same room, but in completely separate worlds from day one.
He was colicky, allergic to the milk and the formula, allergic to the ants and the grass. The girl, a picture of perfect health if only she would open her eyes. The boy, dark skinned with a permanent tan as he wandered around the neighborhood, locked out of the house as they once again forgot his existence. The girl, fair skinned, lying pale and peaceful in a hospital bed, surrounded by people she had never met.
They were opposite in looks, and opposite in predicament, but each one felt the others pain, and neither one could do anything about it.
The boy, always talking, always trying, making noise that no one ever bothered to listen to. He tried so hard, constantly learning new things to tell them about. But learning quickly that they would never care.
The girl, always silent, forced to be still and listen to everyone crowding around her, drowning her in attention she didn’t want. Lying there everyday wishing people didn’t care quite so much, that they would just let her go.
Every night, he would visit, and tell her of all the things he had learned that day. He would sit in a chair next to her bed, and just listen to the steady beeping of her heart, reassuring him that she was still alive, locked away somewhere inside. Every night, she would listen, learning and feeling the panic lessen as she heard the voice of the one person in the entire world who understood.
And then the night came when their worlds collided.
The boy, who cried himself to sleep, next to the girl who was screaming in her head but just couldn’t wake up.
And as the heart monitor got louder and louder, the both of them started to fade.
When the sun came up the next morning, they were together for the first time, and they never had to be apart again.