"I'm back!" I called when I walked into our attic room.
"Congradulations." My sister-Erin- answered.
I went over to the corner of the room and opened the blue cooler that was under the window. I started
unloading some grocerys. Placing them into there own catagories. Everything had it's own place.
"Did you finnish your homework?" Pathetic conversational piece, I know. But we never really need to
talk, we just have an understanding. We're so close, that we can afford to be confortablly far apart
emotionally. I did love her though. Really, I was always more of a parent, or bodyguard to her than a
twin sister. That was sad, but it was the truth. We were both so different. We had the same face but-
we're twins, what do you expect- She has light mahogany hair, and brown eyes. I have dark brown hair –
almost black in the right light- and bright green eyes, inhumanely green eyes, with specks of gold. It's
strange though, sometimes my eye's turn black. Lizzie notices, she used to make fun of me, when we
were younger, for being so different. It would terrify her if she knew exactally how different we are.
We're sixteen, at least, we think we are.
"No, I'm almost done with my math."
"Need help?"
"Nope."
I'm always the first finished with my homework. I skip lunch and finnish my homework then, so then as
soon as school let's out I can go to my job at the dinner downtown. I get home at six everyday. Okay, so
there's the thing. We live with foster parents. Actually, they're our twenty-third foster parent scince
We've been born. We've been with these people for a month. It's pretty obvious that most foster
parent's only foster for the money. And we poor children never see any of the money. We are ignored, I
have always worked overtime so that we can have extra food, and clothing. Also, I pay for the art lessons that Erin has taken scince she was eleven. We just aren't lucky, that's all.
We're used to it. We were abandoned by our parents when we were first born, so it's not like we ever
knew anything else besides this. Well, no. That was a lie, we did know something else, of course.
But that was a very long time ago. We've been around. When we were babies, we were left at a orphanage
in Chinatown New york. We we're rasied by the people there with the other children which, there
weren't many, twelve children in all. We learned to speak Chinese, and were traded from Foster parents to
orphanage routienly.
"Well, I should go. I only got an hour off." There was a flicker of sadness in lizzies' eye's.
"Okay, see you later Alex." Of course, she did protest me working so much and she working so little.
And the moment she would start to complain, I would say:"Lizzie, you be the kid, and I'll be the adult.
Let me worry about this." And every time, she would stop, nod, and just go back to whatever it was she
was doing at that time.
Lizzie didn't know a lot of thing's about me. It wasn't her fault, I just didn't want to freak her
out. These things she didn't know, they werent normal.
For instance: I somehow don't need to eat as much as other people do, or sleep as much for
that matter. It was for that reason that I could take extra hour's at were ever I work, and lizzie
doesn't starve. Up till I was ten, I just thought not tired, not hungry…normal. Then there was a
science class about the human body. Then I though: There is a god! Well can you blame me? I was only
ten, I thought that maybe god was making sure I could take care of my sister without my own needs
getting in the way. Then…Other things started to happen…I'm an atheist again.
I walked to the bus stop, admireing the amazingness of public transportation. No sarcasm. The last place
we lived didn't even have school busses.
-------------
I sighed, walking again up to the third floor that was or room. Lizzie laid peacefully in her bed.
Work was finally over for the day.
I had an army cott on the other side of the room. It had taken me days to convince her that she could have the
bed. I looked at the clock. It read 5:17am. I had gone straight from the waitressing job at 9:00, to my job
(the one that Lizzie didn't know about) at the Blitzeren bar down the street from the dinner.
You would think that it would be illeagle to let a sixteen year old work at a bar. Well if you think this, you would be wrong,
The United States Of America isn't as strict on laws as all of those lawers in their fancy dress may lead you to believe. I can work at the
bar, so long as I don't serve alcohol to people. And that is the simple, ingenius plan that all bartenders allike use to doge the common law.
Clever? I think not.
I crashed onto the cott. Which proved to be a mistake, as the legs gave out and crashed to the floor. I held my
breath and pressed my eyes closed. But it was too late, I heard lizzie sit up.
"Where have you been?" She yawned.
"This is a dream, I'm not real, lay back down. Go to sleep." She laughed
"Okay, have it your way figment of my imagination." She lay back down, taking my lame joke instead of
asking for a real answer. I looked at her as she slept. If only I could do better. If only we had real parents. If only things were different. If only…
I woke up to the alarm clock blaring the usual annoy-the-hell-out-of-you beeping noise. I had
slept for 42 munuites. And I wasn't the least bit tired. I stood up and went over to Lizzie's bed. I tapped
her gentaly on the shoulder.
"Are you immune?" I asked.
"To what?" She mumbled, opening her eyes and looking at me in confusion.
"To the evil beeping piece of trash that is screaming by your head, cuz' it's giving me a headache." This was a lie, I don't
think that I've ever had a headache.
"So let's chuck it against the wall and ditch school today."
"And miss out on the important and valuble information that could be shared with you at Maxwell High
today? I think not!" She groaned. Lizzie, with every last molecule of her body, hated school. She was an
artist. She was a completely amazing artist, to be exact. She had many many sketch books filled with the
most amazing drawings. I can swear that the only thing that kept her going to school were the free art
classes offered there. And with her art came the classic artist style. She only wore the brightest colors. It
drives me crazy sometimes. I wore plain colors as to not stick out so much. I wanted to be left alone.
While she was friendly, and had lot's of friends. Most people didn't even realize we're twins. She lives
the teens' life. I live in reality. My life is to protect and help Lizzie. I concentrate on that completely.
Thinking about anything else was scary, so during the past few years, I had made working constantly
my safety net. If I let that go, even for one minute, then I would have to admit to my self that I'm Scared. When I
look at myself in the mirror, I cannot tell the terror in my eyes. I think I might be dieing. There's
something wrong with me. Being scared shows weakness, and so that is why I act so different from my
sister.
_____
The day past just as I thought it would. I ignor most of what the teacher's say, by the pure habbit
of it. I already know most of what their teaching anyway. Third bell rang. Finnaly! I weave down the hall
around the crowds of people, making my way to lunch. I sat down in the back and opened my books.
3y+by=4y+X(333.22 1/3)
Too easy.
"Hey." I turned. A girl stood behind me.
"Hello."
"Sorry, I couldn't help but notice you were eating alone." She looked at the books in front of me. "If you want to, you could come sit with us." She gestured to a round table in the middle of
the lunch room. Every single person at that table was steering at me expectantly…Creepy.
"No thanks, but I appreaciate the offer!" I tried to sound really nice. She did sound like a very nice person.
She looked downcast.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, actually, I have somewhere to be right now. Maybe another time?" I said riggedly. I would never
eat in the lunch room again.
"Okay!" She said on an overly peppy voice. I think… She meant well.
I got up and walked to biology. I finished most of my work there. And then, before I realized it, My work
was done, and class was starting.
"Today," Mr. Damon started, "We will be working in the labs. Your going to test your blood type. There will be a blood donation
happening next week, and if any of you are planning to participate, this would be a helpful piece of information for you.
Just remember that, as I am sure you are all under eighteen, you must have a parent signiture on a sheet of paper that
will be passed out after class. will
come around with a prick to take a drop of your blood with, and from there you can fallow the direction
placed on sheets of paper at each table." He started around the class. I sat stiffly, my eye's fallowing the
needle's trip around the room. Oh god.
I rose my hand, "Could I go to the nurse?"
"Afraid of blood Ms. Night?" He smiled.
"Yes, completely." I inwardly rolled my eyes. Being afraid of blood, is like being afraid of water. What could it possibly do to you?
"Go then." I think he probably expected at least one student to chicken out.
I made my way for the door. Running down half the hallway before leaning against the lockers and
looking at my hands. You can't test your blood of you don't have any.