They snuck downstairs in the middle of the night.

She filled their favourite glasses up with water.

He opened the cupboard and took the packets.

The snuck back upstairs again, laden with their finds.

He closes the door.

She put the lamp on low.

They sat, together.

Brother and sister. Twins.

He got the paper.

She got the pens.

Together they drew and wrote.

They opened the packets.

Drank the water.

Swallowed the tablets in unison.

28 tokens each.

Some stronger than others.

Most you should not mix.

They sat side by side.

Textbooks in hand.

One on quantum mechanics.

One on political debates.

Hands entwined, holding on to each other until the end.

10 minutes passed.

20...

30...

40 minutes later and their books slipped to the floor, useless to them now.

Faces pale. Eyes cold.

No breath. No heartbeats.

Their messages read:

"We love to learn. But others hate us. They laugh at our minds and point at our brains. We can't take it anymore. Good bye."

So they slept.

In peace, at last...

Together.