I was trapped on the day of my eighteenth birthday.

***

On the morning of that day, my father came into my room, saying that he must confess something to me. I thought it must be something serious for he never had much words with me.

“You are actually not our only child. You had a twin. It was a difficult labor and that baby came out with neither head nor leg but stretching hands first, so we could only save you at that time.” He recalled with sorrow, “The tomb is by the sea. You can visit if you want.”

So I decided to take the bus to the seashore that day. Along the rugged mountain road, I saw a rolling stone coming towards us.

“The rolling stone!” I shouted at the driver. Music blared through the bus.

He turned to me and smiled, “I love that band as well, pal.” The next minute we were falling off the mountain to the ocean.

At that moment, I reflected on my 18-year life: spending most of my time hanging around doing nothing at all, sometimes playing computer games, sometimes cheating on exams and cutting lessons. There was no ambition and no understanding of a reason to live.

I thought I should be the one to have died 18 years ago, not my twin.

***

I woke up in my bed, with no idea how much time had passed.

Then my bedroom door opened, and my father came in, saying that he must confess something to me. “You are not actually our only child…”

I rushed to see the calendar; it was still the day of my eighteenth birthday. I interrupted my dad and told him in panic what had happened to me. He regarded me with suspicion, but he looked for the driver’s number and called him anyway.

At night, we saw the news reporting the landslide and a bus escaped the disaster for the driver had received a strange call ahead. I went to bed with both confusion and ease.

When I woke up, my father came in, telling me that he had something to confess, “You are not actually our only child…”

It happened again and again. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get out of the day.

In despair, I heard a news report about a police academy student having died from a gunshot wound that day. In fact, I checked all the records and found that we were the only two who died that day. I decided to look for her.

She was on the street fighting with three strong guys, but she prevailed over them. I shouted her name as she turned to me in surprise.

“You are running out of time! Please get away from here or you will die today!”

She didn’t seem to be confused this time.

“So you are trapped in this day as well.” She smiled.

***

Her name was Joana, and she was eighteen years old as well, the youngest possible age for enrollment in the police academy. She told me she couldn’t defeat the three gangsters at first, but she spent every repeating day studying their techniques and improving her skills, until finally could she beat them down and retrieve from them the key to the big boss’s warehouse.

On her right arm, I saw a number: 265.

Joana said it represented the goal she set for herself: to catch the big boss in 300 days. There were only 265 days left. But every day she grew stronger and got closer to the goal.

“How do you spend your repeating days?” She asked, staring at me.

“Mainly playing computer games to see how I can defeat my enemies as well,” I replied.

“Can’t you do something more meaningful?” She let out a sigh.

I avoided the topic. “So who killed you?”

“That man.” She pointed to a man aiming at his gun at me from behind.

Two shots rang out and I returned to the morning of my 18th birthday.

***

I went to her place and saw the number 264 on her arm.

“Who exactly did you p*ss off?” I demanded.

“Just a gang boss,” She said in a calm voice.

“Why in the hell did you do that? Aren’t you afraid at all?”

“Those goods in his garage are going to hurt many people if he manages to get out of town today.” She looked at me. There was a tremble, nearly imperceptible, in her voice. “Of course I am scared. But if I manage to catch him,” She cleared her throat, “we can get out of this day and return to our happy normal lives.”

Though she seemed an obstinate idiot to me, I had nothing interesting to do, so I decided to help her.

“By the way, I haven’t asked your name yet.” Her voice drew me out of my thoughts.

“James.”

***

That’s how we became partners. The number got smaller every day,  250…160…100… We died with honor every day. I didn’t really understand how we lived our life like two aged martyrs instead of 18-year-olds. But I had to admit it felt good, doing something that I knew could help others one day.

Still, another idea occurred to me one day. While Joana was resting on a bench, I knocked her unconscious and hid with her under the archway of a bridge. I heard the gangsters’ voice as they were searching for us up above. Under the bridge, I held Joana tight as the moon cast a gentle light over the water.

I woke up the next day, and my father came to confess again.

I rushed out to the usual place only to find Joana staring at me in disappointment.

“Why did you knock me unconscious yesterday?” She asked in anger.

“I thought you would live so that we could end the loop and return to our normal life.” I tried to explain.

But her reply was cold and emotionless. “If you cannot live with your whole heart, what difference does death make?”

“But living is more important than anything, isn’t it?”

“You are eighteen, James. Please grow up. Have you ever fought for anything in your entire life? Have you ever truly felt what it means to live?”

She left without saying anything more.

The news that night reported again that a police academy student died from a gunshot. At that moment, I felt envious of her. She could live every day with wholehearted passion. But me? I could not find my purpose.

***

It had been nearly ten months since I got trapped on my eighteenth birthday. I hadn’t met Joana since that day. Instead, I occupied my time with video games, until one day I grew furious at not able to win the final match. I devoted myself to finding the programmer of the game. Then I spent several repeating days having talks with him again and again. I must say my ability of convincing people progressed a lot in these talks. Eventually he was so moved by me that he agreed to give me some ‘special’  technological help with the game.

This reminded me of something.

***

I found Joana fighting in the same place with the big boss a few days later. She was very experienced, but he got the best of her at last.

“Goodbye, little girl.” As he was about to shoot the gun, another gunshot rang out first. It was the police.

“It’s been a long time.” I smiled at Joana.

“How did you do that?” She asked in surprise. “The police had always said we lacked enough evidence.”

“If you cannot learn everything about your enemy, learn something about your companion. And I have got a silver tongue in recent days.” I winked, stretching out my hand to her as an arm with the number 2 reached out to me.

“Congratulations on winning your game, Joana. I will see you TOMORROW.”

***

But tomorrow didn’t arrive.

“Why can’t we leave now?” I tried not to sound too desperate the next morning.

“Do you have any unfinished business from that day?” Joana frowned, “Perhaps the curse can only be dispelled when both of us have fulfilled our wishes.”

So I told her that after we brought the big boss to justice, I would take her to visit my twin’s tomb.

It was late at night, so we took a taxi. The car roared on the mountain road as I suddenly saw the rolling stones again. I recalled in panic that the news had warned about aftershocks from the landslide that afternoon.

The driver tried to stop, but it was too late.

For the second time, the car hurtled off the mountain and plunged straight into the sea. Torrents of water gushed into the car as I saw blood staining the water red. The driver was dead, and Joana had been impaled by a sharp stone in the stomach.

I stretched out my hands for Joana, but she tried to push me away. “Go! Find your twin’s tomb,” More water rushed in. “have a good life and let me live through you.”

“Why does this sound like the last goodbye? We can just start again tomorrow.” I was confused, holding her hands regardless of her struggle.

“I am sorry, but there is no chance left.” There was great sorrow in her eyes. “I didn’t write the numbers on my arm. They appeared themselves. Don’t you get it? They are a countdown to our death. If we don’t escape this day in 300 days, we will fall into a permanent, final, death, as we were supposed to do long ago.”

Joana let go of my hands. “Go! Please go!” She cried hoarsely, then pointed her gun at the back window and shot.

“Live a good life!” Her words faded as more water plumped in.

I saw the number 1 on her arm gradually disappearing. She showed strength I had never seen before and pushed me out of the sinking car with both hands.

“Let’s go out together…” My shouts were lost in bubbles, disappearing into the water.

I used the momentum from Joana’s shove to swim upwards to the surface. It was dark, but I could see some light on the surface of the water.

As I was about to reach the surface, I looked back to Joana for the last time. She was smiling warmly in the dark cold water.

When I turned back, I saw a blinding white light. A man was standing there saying, “Come out! Come out!” I blinked and realized that it was a surgeon. I was in the delivery room.

“Please save Joana!” I tried to shout at him, but my words turned into baby’s cry.

I looked back to see a small pair of hands in the blood gradually losing their strength and falling. I remembered father’s words, “The baby came out with neither head nor leg but stretching hands first…”

So you are my twin, Joana. A passionate, energetic 18-year-old girl.

I cried. There was nothing else I could do.

The surgeon cheered, “He’s alive!”

***

The lights went off and I was left in total darkness. Then I heard crying from someplace close to me. I could not tell whether it was my cries or the cries of someone else.

I struggled to open my eyes and saw my father crying beside my bed in the hospital.

Our eyes met and he smiled through tears.

“You have finally woken up!”

I looked around to check the time. It was the day after my eighteenth birthday. It was TOMORROW.

“My twin…” I said in a weak voice.

“When you are better, we’ll go visit her tomb together. Did I told you we named her Joana?” Father replied in a gentle tone.

“Joana…she sounds like a really great cop.” I cracked a smile.

“Why a cop?” He was confused.

“You don’t get it.” I looked out through the window, the moon casting a gentle light over the water just like it did that night when I held Joana tightly under the bridge.