Gemini
Hey! I'm Gemini and this is Genie. We're the St. Martins annoying, crazy, mischievous identical twins. We both have striking features. Dark, vivid black hair, intelligent Smokey grey eyes, full plump lips and the cutest dimples when we smile. We're the same in every way! Our heights, faces, even our bra sizes are the same.
Truth be told: we've never met anyone like us.
It's New Year's Day. Like most years, we go on holiday to celebrate the coming of the New Year. Also, it's a break from the harsh winter weather of England.
Dad picked where to go this time round.
His choice was Japan.
"But isn't the weather the same over there as here in winter?" We hear you ask. Well, it's not our fault! It's dad's fault! Even mum wasn't impressed.
Being High-classed citizens', we have the best teachers and our speciality is languages, so, that barrier was no biggy. It was the rest.
"Gemini!"
I laughed as my sister kept on rooting for the biscuits.
"Gemini!" Mum hates us eating junk food *eye roll*
"Gemini! Drop those biscuits now!"
So, literally, Genie drops the biscuits and the cookie jar with them. Crash! (Me: yay! onomatopoeia!). Great, more broken pottery.
"Gemini, what have I told you!" Mum's giving her the disappointed-hands-on-hips-mum look.
"But I'm Genie!" My sister whines. "You should know this by now!"
Mum is bright red and her look softens.
"Are you sure?"
By now, I was clutching my sides in hysterics.
"Positive."
Mum cannot tell us apart – which is kind of hurtful – and it embarrasses her when she gets it wrong. Dad isn't that lame though, he's totally awesome and can tell us apart no problem. Dad's awesome all-round, mum's just too high-strung and demanding. I think the main thing that makes us our 'mother's daughters' is our looks.
"Oh." Yup, mum's embarrassed. I can tell because she's wringing her hands out and wearing a drastic shade of red on her face. "Well, I better go find your father. Find out what he's up to." And she scurries of before she can do anymore harm.
At that moment, we are living in a wonderfully exclusive, luxurious hotel – which is begging to be explored – and we're in the penthouse.
Most of our family's fortune is "old money" (at least 36 million of it). The rest is what our parents earn. Mum's an actress and is always going away. On the other hand, dad is a share holder of up to six different companies. Dad lives for business; mum lives for cameras. He's a great business man. Powerful too. One day I want to be like him. Genie sets her goal as an actress. She was always a little bit more like mum and sets her goal to be an actress.
Anyway, we give each other an I-know-what-you're-thinking look. Then run to our bedroom. We've always shared.
Under Genie's bed is an old tattered suitcase and within that suitcase if sweets, sweets and sweets.
Oh yeah, did I mention we go super hyper when we eat sugar? No, well, we do.
"Genie! Genie! Genie!" I chant whilst chugging a can of beer, which we got from dad's personaly mini-fridge.
She finishes with a burp and grins, wiping a few dregs of her chin with the sleeve of her navy cardigan.
we're dressed very similar today.
I'm wearing: a navy tank top; white mini skirt; navy knee-high socks; white shoes and a white cardigan. Genie's wearing the same but the colours swapped around.
Just how we like it.
"I declare another can!" She raises a filled can and raises it to her lips and chugs that too. Between us we've had eight cans between us.
"I don't feel well." Groans Genie. She didn't look too good either. She was turning a sickly shade of green and her forehead was covered in a film of sweat. Suddenly, she was violently puking up until she lay very, very still.
"No! Wake up!" I screamed shaking her violently.
I don't remember what happened next...sirens...mum crying...dad...angry...vomit...white...white clothes...white...ceiling...floor...walls...beep...heart...beeb...monitor...beeb...Genie...where's Genie?...yelling...I want my Genie...sleep...
