The misty clouds descended from the gray sky and soon spread their arms, covering the entire city of London with sadness and uncertainty. The growing factories began to emit black smoke that spread faster and faster with each passing day. So, it has become normal in our little corner of the world, but I felt like this smog would be out of the ordinary. The whole family ignored the dark layers of clouds outside. They were too busy preparing for my brother's wedding. “James Weatherby! Open the door, darling," Mary moaned in front of my room, "You have to try on your dress!" "I'd like to try it on, darling, but I can't replace my brother," I replied as I leaned against the open door. She replied, “ I apologize deeply, dear. You're two..." "I know. Gemini," I interrupted her and immediately closed the door without giving her time to answer. I dove into my comfortable bed and started reading a book by JD Salinger. Distraction was my only escape from his tempting invitations. Why did dad choose James? He should have cast me as Mary White. He knew I was stronger. He knew I was better. He knew I was smarter. She knew I loved her more. He knew…A woman kept screaming in front of my door interrupting my flow of thoughts. I opened the door once again and saw Mary's evil lookalike standing there in annoyance. “That's why my twin sister hates you,” Lalaurie pointed out, “well, either you try on your 'dress' or you can think of a sweet plan t-” “A plan! Lala, you finally used your brain for once! How does it feel?" I answered her happily. Suddenly, in anger, she pushed me further into my room and quickly moved out of my peripheral vision while muttering words of hatred towards me. I was too happy to notice his absence. Too much… middle of paper… yes,” Lalaurie said heartlessly. “I guess birds of a feather flock together, huh?” I told him nervously. She looked at me in amazement and soon understood what I meant. She cried for her lost lover and I quickly followed her actions. We sat on the standard king bed and prayed for forgiveness of our misdeeds. On December 9, 1952, the news declared that the thick fog mixed with black smoke emitted from houses and factories had killed a thousand people and counting. Our family members never discovered where the bodies of the real James Weatherby and Mary White lay cold and still and soon gave up on the case. As for me and my hateful wife, we tried to live normally among others. Nobody knew what had happened. No one has ever pointed the finger at us. No one has ever doubted that we were the evildoers because our story has never been told until now.