Taylor's perspective:

"Jet!" I squeal as he pours ice down my shirt.

He laughs openly, and I feel the need to punch him.

"I am contemplating whether or not to KILL YOU RIGHT NOW!" I screech the last bit as he runs away.

I will get my twin back.

Jet's perspective:

Taylor has been silent all day. So silent, I wonder if she dies then came back to life with her lips sewn shut. No, she is deciding on how to get me back. That I am sure of. I plop myself at dinner table, across from her.

"Hello my darling sister." My response is a rather crude finger gesture.

"MUM! TAYLOR FLIPPED THE BIRD AT ME!"

"NO YELLING AT THE TABLE!" She shouts back.

Taylor smirks at me. At that moment, dad comes at sits down next to her. His hair has flecks of red and gold paint on it and his clothes are 'blood' stained.

"Whatcha been working on dad?" Asks Taylor.

"Don't tell her," he says, "but it's a present for your mum."

"And the occasion?" I ask.

"A present this amazing doesn't need an occasion."

"What present?" Asks mum, setting down a massive chicken pizza. And I mean massive. Like so big that it would feed a third-world family of six for two weeks. That big.

"Taylor and Jet are bugging me about their birthday present. I mean, come on guys, it's four months away." Taylor and I wear matching scowls.

I can tell from mum's face that she doesn't believe him. She arches an eyebrow.

"Really?"

But dad is already scoffing his face. Diagonal from the table, Taylor and mum share a look.

"What?" I ask, my face full of pizza.

Suddenly, a burning begins in my mouth. I spit out the piece of chicken and start wolfing down my water. My throat still on fire.

"You did this?" I stutter at Taylor.

She shrugs. "You make me cold," she says, "I make you hot."