I feel as if people don’t know who I am. Sure, I’m that curly headed kid who doesn’t talk. I’m the kid with the crazy twin brother. Maybe the only person who fully knows me is my brother; you could say we are the same person.

There are differences between us, some are significant and others are minuscule. Our looks, our personalities, and our interest are different; however, you could say we are not that different. We are the same in some ways too. Take our taste in music and friend groups, there both the same. Even the way we think can be the same sometimes. Sometimes we will say the same thing at the same time. People always tell us how it trips them out.

As kids, my brother and I would get in to mischief, like fighting at school or not listening to teachers or fighting with other kids. Let’s just say we got to know the principal too well. One day at home my brother and I were playing outside with a ball we found and two wooden paddles. And for reasons I do not remember the paddle that was in my hand was now on a path straight to my brother’s nose. Let’s just say I had received a stern talking too from my father.

As the years went by my brother and I got along much better, we became closer. Sure were brothers we still fight, but at the end of it all we are still brothers and friends.

I honestly can say my brother is my best friend. I don’t know for sure if he would say the same thing but, I’m about 70 percent sure he would. There is only one person that knows who I truly am. Born thirteen minutes before I saw the light of the world, he’s my brother. My twin. My best friend.