by Tari Gwaemir
"I am inside someone who hates me."
From the transcript of an interview with Fraulein Liebert:
I've often heard it told that twins, even as infants, develop their own private language, which only the two of them can understand. This is a fallacy...as far as I'm aware. My...my brother and I, we did not speak the same language. That did not stop us from comprehending each other, as much as I would like to deny it. A part of an individual can remain unknowable even to himself, but this barrier to communication does not necessarily split his essential unity as a person. It is very important to remember that. A person is always whole, no matter how fragmented he seems to himself or to others. Like a hard-boiled egg whose shell is cracked but continuous.
My brother...Johann...he would not have agreed with me. To him, I was neither a separate entity or an appendage of himself. He thought of me as his doppelganger. A mirror image, but not a perfect reflection: distorted, flawed. Or rather he thought of himself as the distorted one. We could not coexist, faced with this other who was not-other. But he loved me, I know, in his own way. He could not bring himself to eliminate me, whom he thought of as the truer image, and perhaps that is why he did what he did.
On the other hand, I was fully prepared to kill him myself. If I am to be honest, there was a point where I was able to do it. Psychologically, spiritually, mentally.
Inside me, there is a murderer. Johann and I never shared a language, but those were the last words he left impressed on my heart.
[end of interview]