I had been suffering from nightmares more and more often every night. The dreams were mostly small parts of a bigger event of some sort, I might best explain it as incomplete pieces of one dream.

It always started the same way; I was in a dark, somewhat familiar hallway, with stairs at the end of it. Every dream I got a bit further through the hallway and up the stairs, the dreams always ended suddenly, with the sound of someone screaming. It sounded a lot like my own voice to be honest.

One night I saw the complete dream, I was in the familiar dark hallway, walking slowly to the stairs. This time it was somewhat different however, as I heard a voice whispering faintly, hushing and saying things like: It will be okay. When I finally was at the top of the stairs, I was greeted by a door. I opened it, and inside was a large room. The only light inside came from a small window on the left wall. The room was completely empty save for two baby-sized beds. Someone was bending over them; it seemed to be the person whose voice I'd heard in the hallway. When I closed the door the babies inside the beds started crying, and the person turned around to face me. It was me, another me. He came up to me and started choking me, smiling and yelling: How come you got to live? He looked exactly like me, save for a mole on his left cheek.

That's how the dream ended. I never had the same dream again. That was about a year ago.

Now, a week or so ago, I visited my childhood home with my mother. I recognised the hallway, the stairs and even the room. I asked my mother what had been in this room when we lived here.

You and your brother's nursery, she told me.

I never knew I had a brother, and she could read the surprise on my face. She told me I had a twin brother who died when we were two years old. She said we looked exactly alike, save for the fact he had a mole, on his left cheek...