Instalment One

Supposedly remained blissfully unaware of the family secret until his eighteenth birthday. His parents took him aside and spilled forth their hidden shame.

Supposedly had a brother, a fraternal twin. One starved of nutrients and oxygen from a twisted umbilical cord. A gruesome and nauseating parody of a child, its skull misshapen and limbs withered.

As this was in the days before ultrasounds, when women kept on drinking and smoking while pregnant, there was no warning for the thing they were handed in the delivery room. A monster. Supposedly’s mother fainted. His father, deep in shock, fought his way through the formalities and took the unwanted child straight to the orphanage.

“I have a brother,” Supposedly gasped, “What was his name?”

“His name is Supposably.”

Just uttering the name sent a chill through the room, setting teeth on edge, like the sound of nails down a black board.

“But you never speak his name, I don’t want you to even think the word supposably.”

“And if you hear that word, if you hear someone say supposably, you correct them, you correct them as fast as you can.”

“Just as we do with your sister Specifically and her monstrous twin, Pacifically.”