I'm laying in bed, staring at the metallic and wooden ceiling of my bedroom. An old pre-war model of a plane sways back and forth above my head. I've had it since as far back as I can remember, really. Well, actually, since I moved here. My dad built it for me, out of pieces of wood and steel that were too small to use for anything else. I watch it sway for a bit, in the air that seeps in through the small cracks in the walls. Since I was little, I've watched the plane drift in the light breeze my room gives. It's calming in a way, since it would always be the last thing I saw before falling asleep.
Putting my arms behind my head, I give a deep sigh and stretch a bit. It's a hot, lazy day here, just like any other day. Most of the time I don't mind it too much. Since there's nothing to worry about here, and no cause or reason to leave, my life has been one big cycle of being lazy and hanging out with my dad. He breaks up the cycle of boredom, and takes me out to teach me things. We're pretty close, me and my dad. I like it that way, though. I owe a lot to him, and because he's influenced me in good ways and spent time teaching me how to fight and survive, I really have no worries if anything bad happens. Not that I want anything bad to happen, I'm just saying, is all.
"Watcha doing?"
I look over to my right to see my sister standing in my doorway. She takes a bite of an apple as she leans against the steel doorframe, and chews obnoxiously loud. I roll my eyes at her, and stare back at the ceiling.
"I was relaxing."
"Yeah that's all you ever do. Get up and do something."
Rubbing my eyes, I know she's just bored. She likes to nag at me when she's bored. She won't do it in front of our parents though, because then she's too busy with mom doing random shit. Even though we're siblings, sort of, we're not very close. I'd protect her if anything happened, I know that, but that's it. We don't stay up late and talk, or share deep emotional secrets. We're basically strangers in all but name.
"I did yesterday. I got food."
I tell her, feeling a bit annoyed. Grabbing my pack of cigarettes off of my bedside table I sit up. My bare mattress squeaks under my weight, and I light a cigarette.
"That's not doing anything. That's just doing what mom and dad told you to do."
"You didn't complain last night when you ate, now did you?"
"I couldn't. My mouth was full of food. Hey where'd mom and dad go anyways? They never tell me anything."
She's right on that one. My sister doesn't know jack shit about anything out here. I do, though. Since I was little, my dad and mom always told me that my sister was not to know anything about them, me, or their past. That they didn't want her exposed to the elements as they were, and in time things would become better for her, and she'd understand. So, for her safety, we kept it from her. My dad feared she would inherit my mother's gene of wanderlust, and hoped to soften that by not telling her of their past at all. Then if she did have the gene, my sister wouldn't know any better or feel any urges to leave Megaton.
"Yes they did, they told you. They went to Rivet City to get away from you."
"Liar! They told me they were going to Rivet City to have a few days away."
"Exactly. To get away from you."
She sticks her tongue out at me and rolls her eyes. My mom is in her fifties now, but, she doesn't look or act it. Because she's immune to radiation like my dad is, the aging process for her is slow. With the body of a twenty-year-old, the mind of a thirty-year-old, and the wisdom of a fifty-year-old, my mother is certainly a rare character to find. Dad doesn't complain much, though, because when they go off to Rivet City to see Dr. Barrows or whatever, she can keep up with him. Sometimes, he even says, she surpasses him. Dizzy, my sister, has that same gene. The one that makes her immune to radiation. She's going to live a long and youthful life like my mom and dad are. I'm the only one that's going to die at a normal age. I'm not sure really, how I feel about that.
"You're such a dick, you know that."
"What Raider did you scam that outfit from? You know dad'll have a fit if he finds out you're hanging out with them again."
Tossing her apple core into my trash bin, Dizzy folds her arms over her chest and sticks her nose high in the air. We share the same eyes, mouth, and ears. That's it, really. She has my grandmother's dark brown hair, and my mother's button nose and thin body. Her oval face reminds me of my mom, but the serious looks she can give makes me think of my dad. Since she's immune to radiation, and a ghoul in all but form, Dizzy is stronger than most females. Also, having my dad's genes of strength helps, too. She keeps her dark hair short, though. It's black against the sun but if you look close, you'll see it's brown just like most people around here. She says she likes it short, because then she can see everything better. Don't know what she wants to see, though.
Lately she's been hanging out with a rogue band of Raiders just on the outskirts of town. Being seventeen and pretty impressionable, my stupid sister thinks they're the shit and I'm worried about that. We don't need a pretty-boy Raider walking in and convincing her to join their cause. I hope she's not that stupid, though.
"Dad won't know shit if you don't open your mouth. And mind you I got this as a gift from Erin. She said it was her mom's and that it would look good on me. It's Paingiver Armor."
"Whatever, Diz. Dad'll find out. He always does."
She turns her back and waves her hand at me, dismissing my warning.
"I'll deal with that when it comes then."
Really, I don't know where Dizzy came from. Both my mom and dad are level-headed beings. What makes Dizzy so goddamned insatiable and bratty I have no idea. Well, my mom can be pretty childish at times, so maybe there's an x-factor gene somewhere in there that makes Dizzy go berserk. But just because she acts this way doesn't mean it's alright. Getting off my bed, I follow her down the steps and into the kitchen.
"Dizzy you have to stop being so irresponsible. You're seventeen, grow up already."
I go to take a Nuka-Cola from the fridge, but when I do she swipes it from my hand. Sitting down at the table, Dizzy looks at me. One of those looks that makes me worry she knows more than she lets on, and sets the tone for the conversation. I won't lie, Dizzy is an amazing being. She can get you in one look, or scare you away. When she walks into a room, the entire room feels whatever she's feeling in an instant. Some people don't like it, but, I don't mind it much. Knowing it makes me feel a bit closer to my sister than I really am.
Even though we have the same ice-blue almond-shaped eyes, I still get chills when she stares at me like that. Questions usually come from a look like that. Lately I've been worried that she knows something about me. That…she'd know since I look exactly like dad, that I'm not fully from mom. But, Dizzy doesn't know what dad looked like, before he became a ghoul. All she knows is that I 'inherited' his size, strength, and height. Still, I can feel sometimes, she knows I hold no semblance to mom, like she does.
"What?"
I say to her, uncomfortable with the tense silence and her eyes boring holes into me. She sighs and plays with the half-empty soda bottle in front of her, staring at it like it holds all the answers to all the questions of the world.
"…Nothing."
Without saying anything else, she gets up and storms out of the house. Curious and a bit annoyed, I follow her and stick my head out the front door.
"Where're you going?"
"I don't know. Away from you."
Fine. Slamming the front door I figure this is just another one of her temper tantrums. She has them a lot these days, and usually with no reason or cause for them. Mom and dad noticed it too, but mom says she's just growing up. Dad thinks otherwise, which is why before they left he told me to keep a careful eye on her. Mom and dad usually don't go away for this long, but after twenty-two years of raising two kids, they needed a break. Since Dizzy and I are both able to be on our own, they felt safe in taking a vacation. I'm not lying, either. Dad really said they were going to Rivet City to be alone for a bit, and he has no reason to lie to me.
I still hate having to watch my sister, though. She's seventeen and shouldn't be as reckless as she is, but, she's a girl and you can't stop it. I don't know why dad and mom don't just accept she's seventeen and can be responsible, but I guess they have their reasons. Just wonder how long I can stick around for it. Lately I've been having thoughts of getting out of this town. You know, just walking around and seeing what my parents saw. I know it's different. Back then, the Capital Wasteland wasn't turning all green like it is now. Sure there's a lot of it that's still desolate, nasty and all hard dirt, but for the most part it's being rejuvenated. I'd like to see it though. See Rivet City and the D.C. Ruins. Go back to where mom and dad rescued me from and sift through the remains for no other reason than curiosity. I'd like to find some of the kids I was in there with, too. Hopefully, they're still alive.
Walking into the living room, I pick up my gun. My mother says a gun is supposed to represent the person, but I don't know what she means by that. I use an automatic Chinese assault rifle, and it gets whatever job I need it for done. It suits me, I suppose. My dad uses a drum-shotgun, and my mom a sawed-off. My sister, she has a scoped .44 Magnum. The scope is enhanced enough so she doesn't have to put it to her face to see through, and it's got the power of a shotgun with the mobility of a handgun. Honestly I don't ever think she uses it. She always forgets it at home, and that really pisses off our parents.
Putting my gun on my back, I'm going to do something drastic. My parents won't be back for another couple of days, and I'm determined to find out where my sister is off to. She probably hasn't gotten far, and worse to worse she's with those Raiders again on the outskirts of town. We always tell her it's not safe, but she only hears what she wants to hear. It'll get her killed, I swear. To be honest, though, I get really upset when I think of my sister in danger. It's probably the family ties that make me get so angry, but, I don't think it's healthy. Even though we're not close, I can see myself risking my neck for her stupid ass. I think, that's what my parents wanted, though.
