Andy's P.O.V.
Have you ever had that feeling where you love someone, but hate them so much more? That's what I feel for my sister as we fight over the remote, again.
Our mom was in the kitchen cook dinner. I'm pretty sure she heard us beating each other senseless over the remote again, but chose to ignore it. I don't blame her.
The only reason I fought with my sister was because I knew I'd win. She was older, but I was taller, and stronger. Most people didn't believe we were sisters. We truly don't look alike. That may be due to the fact that we don't have the same father. Both of them walked out on our mom, she's great at picking men, as you can tell.
My sister tackling me for the remote shook me out of my thoughts. As she landed on me I imminently threw her off me. I slammed the remote on the glass coffee table, and stomped up the stairs.
"Andy, come back!" I heard her yell. I flipped her off and continued up the stairs.
As I walked down the hall, I could still hear her calling for me to come back downstairs. I blocked her out and continued walking to my room. I looked at my black door, with a silver handle and a Keep Out sign on it. As I walked back into my room I felt at peace, which was rare.
My black carpet and dark purple walls made my room look like a cave. My sister almost never came in here, and I her's. We got along, if you could even call it that. We disagreed on most things. Mom says it's because of our personalities. We can agree on one thing though, we want to meet our fathers. Just for different reasons, she wants to have a relationship with hers, I want to beat the living shit out of mine.
Sometimes we wonder if we have other siblings out there, but decide it's best not to know. It's pretty clear we don't have the same father though. We might as well be each others opposites.
Not just mentally, but physically. She has shoulder length, curly blond hair. She hates the curls, always complaining about them being in her face. Everyone tells her to just straighten them, but then her hair frizzes. I find it pretty amusing. I'll never know how she handles having such short hair. My straight black hair reaches my waist. It almost never tangles, frizzes, or curls. Which also means that I can't curl it. I normally have it back in a long french braid, which my mother does every morning. My sister just pins it back with a small, gold clip. Mom gave it to her for her thirteenth birthday, claiming that it was from her dad. Three and a half months later she gave me a silver clip, telling me the same thing. I've never worn mine.
I've heard that eyes are the windows to your soul. I wonder if the reflect them too? That would explain a lot. My sister, Helen, has icy blue eyes. They always look happy, as is she. Mine are a dark brown, almost black. Most people say they're pretty, I've never seen it that way.
She's always been liked, it's hard not to like her. Me however, am the definition of a loner. I don't hate people, I just don't love them. Well, not them, their stupidity. Helen has patience, people love her, she's friendly, calm, and collected. Then there's me, I'm quiet, have a short fuse, and am not friendly. By any means.
We've both been tested, and diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia. I just went one step further, the physicists thinks I'm depressed and have anxiety. I think he just wants us to keep coming back so he can pay for boose.
Back to Helen and I. I think my mom went through a Greek phase when she was pregnant with us. Seeing as we're both named after Greek heroes. Her's being the namesake of a hot daughter of Zeus that caused a war. And mine being the daughter of the king and queen of Aethiopia. Her mom claimed that her daughter was the 'most beautiful woman in the world', thus getting stripped naked, chained to a rock, and almost fed to a sea monster. You'd think that people would've learned not to piss of the Gods, guess that's human stupidity for you.
Something I noticed while studying Greek Mythology, almost every problem was caused by something ridiculous. Either a God or Goddess threw a hissy fit, someone got jealous, someone thought they were better than a God of Goddess, or Zeus couldn't keep it in his damn pants.
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Dinner was ate in silence. Mom desided not to bother us, and Helen didn't try to start a conversation. Smart girl.
Mom made spaghetti, I'm pretty sure she's Italian. I've never been close enough with her to bother asking. Now that I think of it, I'm not close to anyone. The only person that I will actually talk to is Helen.
Helen has a lot of friends, she's had boyfriends before, and Mom loves her. She loves me too, but she's closer to Helen. I'm not complaining, but it'd be nice to get to know my mom.
After dinner I put my plate, silverware, and cup in the dishwasher before going back to my room.
I had my music blaring, I figured someone would tell me to turn it down. No one did.
About twenty minutes later I heard a soft knocking at my door.
I groaned. "Who is it?" I asked. No one answered, but Helen did walk into my room. She never does that, nobody does. It's an unwritten rule not to enter my room until I say so.
"I'm not going to fight with you about this," she said quietly.
"I'm not fighting, I'm staying in my room. Get out," I told her.
Once she left I wanted to go and apologize. True, we fought, but doesn't all siblings? She's my sister, neither of us have a dad around, and Mom works constantly to keep our heads above water. As much as I hate to admit it, she's all I have. She has friends to comfort her, I don't. It's kinda sad.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Let me know what y'all think of my first chapter. I'll be updating soon, I hope. Feel free to check out my other story,