This week’s Friday flash (or Friday drabble, as it were) came out of an odd dream.

I woke in silver chains.  They burned, but I gripped the connecting chain between my feet.

He leaned over me. Aquamarine eyes, exactly like my own, gleamed. We were twins; he hated my choices.

“Abomination. Going to die.”

He wanted me to know who killed me.

But I was going to live. Even if I killed him.

Gloved fingers loosened the thick silver collar, the easier to slice my throat.

I bit his hand, wrapped the chain around his feet and came up on top.

I banged his head against the ground; he wrapped his other hand around my throat.