By: Jojo Zhan

The first one came at school.

It was the middle of August, eleven days after elementary school started, they opened their locker when it fell out. One of them picked it up, examined it, and showed it to the other. They stared at the sheet of paper, two hearts, conjoined with one another. There was nothing on it, just the thin, red paper with the delicate cutting. It meant something, but they couldn’t figure out what.

They found another one the very next day. It was resting on their nightstand when they woke up. Two pale, pale, pink hearts, conjoined with one another.

For the next three days, nothing was found.

Then, during their piano lesson, when the teacher had left the room with their mom, two hearts, conjoined, drifted onto their lap. It was red, a deep, dark, murderous, red. When the adults came back, one quickly stuffed it into her pocket.

It came again after twelve hours. It came during school, when the teacher was passing back their papers, he handed them their tests, and they found it on the backside. The two conjoined hearts stared back at them. It was pretty pink, coral pink.

For a good three days, nothing was found.

Thursday, September 13th, 1981, that was the date on the whiteboard during math class when they found the fifth one. It was an orangy red, and they snatched it off their teacher’s desk when he wasn’t looking.

The next day, another showed up.

Soon, the thin sheet of paper was part of their lives. It came two times every three days, they found it in their cupboards, inside their shoes, taped onto the wall. It was everywhere.

It followed them through first grade, the summer before second, then all the way through elementary. It was there on the last day of sixth grade, when they both had their very first kiss. Throughout middle school, high school, up until they graduated, the two conjoined hearts were there for it all. It appeared through the summer before university, before they packed their bags and flew to California. Before they moved into their dorm, made new friends, and started university. Then they took classes, went to parties, and pulled all-nighters. Everything that happened, happened. But no matter where they looked, under the bedsheets, inside the microwave, behind the bookshelves, no hearts were found. Soon, they gave up looking, they continued with their life.

It was early September, eleven days after their internship started when the first two hearts were found. They, the conjoined twins, smiled as they picked it up from under their desk, they smiled at the memories it held, two hearts, conjoined as one.