AN:Hello everyone! So I'm writing a new story! I don't really know how big the One Tree Hill fandom, or the Brucas fandom is anymore, so we will just see what happens.
But I was reading the Lying Game series and I thought that it could also make a good story with the fellow characters that hold the residents of Tree Hill! So it will have a mix of both the book, and the two shows, so I'm super excited to see what you all think! please, please, please give it a review and tell me what you all think! That would be appreciated!
-Madison
RE: I have no affiliation with One Tree Hill, or the characters, as well with the book/show The Lying Game
Don't you think that it's boring how people talk
Making smart with their words again, well I'm bored
Because I'm doing this for the thrill of it, killin' it
Never not chasing a million things I want
And I am only as young as the minute is full of it
Getting pumped up on the little bright things I bought
But I know they'll never own me
It is early August.
The yellow sun splashes sensation lazily all over the cerulean blue sky, having each ray titillate and convolve the ends of the earth. A rare flurry breeze of wind rushes through the clouds along with the gentle buzz of ecstatic bees.
She finds herself on the front porch, eating Ritz crackers out of a bag. The once sharp blades of islamic green grass, fade out into a sienna colored brown, left dehydrated and dead.
The humid wind blows a loose brown chocolate curl over her shoulder.
The breeze of the humid wind of Reno, Nevada swings an old rusty asparagus colored swing back in forth in a steady motion.
She can her the laughter of small children playing in the distance, the birds soaring through the sky, making their infamous V shape, as they head in the direction of wherever their destination might be.
She takes the last cracker, and pops it into her mouth, crinkling up the bag in her hand.
She always wondered what the life of a bird may be like. One word apprehending her brain; freedom. To be able to fly wherever you want, when you want, with no care in the world.
Brooke finds most days like this. Some may call it peaceful, and nice.
She thinks it's boring.
She's only Seventeen years old, a junior placed in a fervent public school. And she can't help wishing, praying that her life was different.
The screen door suddenly screeches open, Her foster brother, Owen, slamming it shut in the propose.
"Hey babe." He grins a sleek grin, making Brooke crinkle her face in disgust.
"What do you want, Owen?" She grimaces at his presence. A black, stained shirt, with light torn denim jeans dressed his body.
"Nothing, just thought I'd come out and say hi." He replied back with a shrug, lighting his cigarette.
Brooke sighed softly to herself.
Owen, was her current foster brother, but he was also Shannon's (her current foster mom)'s real son. She had been staying with them for five months already, and she couldn't help but dread the place. She was thankful for a place to stay, but the house smelt of stale cigarettes, and was filled with empty beer cans. The little house coated with an eggshell white was the epitome of 'White trash' -including the people in it.
She often referred to the two as her wicked foster family.
Shannon would always bring in stray men at the dead of night, and left everything up for guessing. She was rude, and impolite, and always accused Brooke of stealing. Which would make sense, guessing as she was a foster child, and that was the whole stereotype set up behind it. However, Brooke thought of herself as a nice girl, who always tried to do the right thing.
Rick was seventeen years old as well, and gave her a creepy feeling, that would always leave tingles running up Brooke's spine.
She knew she couldn't stay in this environment forever. It wasn't stable, and as far as she knew, this would be her last foster family. She was seventeen years old, and by that age, foster care services really didn't care what you did next in your life.
It felt like a good thing, Brooke was sick of moving from one place to another, and honestly she was done with it. That didn't mean she wasn't scared of what might happen to her life after. Where she would go? How she would be able to determine and live up to her future.
She always wondered what it would be like to be blessed with a real family.
She had remembered faint memories of her mother, when she was younger. The biggest part being that she abandoned Brooke when she was only five years old, leaving her to fend off the world at a very young age by herself. That's what had ended her up on this huge mess notified as "foster families" in the first place. She did remember that she loved her mother. With all her heart, I mean of course, she was her mother... it would make sense. Every time Brooke thought about her though, she felt a pain in her stomach. Something that ached to love, and be loved by the nutriment only a mother could give.
Living in one of those perfect families on the suburbs, with a mom, and a dad. Maybe even a little sister to play dolls with, or swing on the swings with. To be apart of the family albums that made her heart tickle with the good memories that her life was blessed with.
She knew that she'd never get that.
"Watch thinking?" Owen asked spitting out tar from his smoke.
Brooke looked up, honestly forgetting he was even there. "Nothing that concerns you." She replied back smugly.
"Sure you weren't." he chuckled more to himself. "Honestly, I think you were thinking of shaking up with me or something, with that hopeful look plastered all over your face. Don't worry, hun, all you gotta do is ask." He replied with a smug smirk, wriggling his eyebrows up and down.
"Sick." Brooke muttered under her breath, slowly getting up and retorting back inside.
Brooke walked down the stairs, and into the room that she now had occupied. The room wasn't like most rooms. It was dull, and very spacey. The only thing that gave the room any character were pictures of her and her best friend, Alex pinned up all over.
She walked over towards her closet, opening up the door, and stepping on her tip toes, peering a look at her a grey duffle bag, she always kept stashed with her belongings, in case she had to swipe up and move again.
She wondered over to her bed, hearing a little ding on her computer screen. Waving her mouse, to wake the computer up, Brooke curiously looked at the screen that had opened up to her facebook. In the corner of the monitor, was the message box with the red number one up against it. That's weird, she thought to herself... No one had ever really messaged her on facebook. In fact, no one had. She only had five other friends, and rarely ever went on.
Letting curiosity get the best of her, she opened up the bubble. Brooke had gotten even more curious. She didn't know the person who had sent it to her. "Beth Sawyer." She read aloud, before looking down at the actual message.
"Brooke- I know this might sound bizarre but we look exactly alike! Is there any chance you may be adopted? This is so weird! Write me back ASAP, Love your twinner, Beth Sawyer."
Brooke's eye sockets bulged out of her head. "What?" She asked crazily to herself, before she clicked on Beth's profile picture, and staring amazingly at her dash, and clicking the main picture to go on the others. Each picture looking identically like she was the one in the picture.
She went back to the so called Beth's pictures and looked at every one of them. Some taken with her friends, family, some with other guys, and some even with just herself.
She scrolled down to look at all of her posts. Most just being what every normal teenage girl would right.
She kept reading the most recent entry stating "Don't you wish you could just run away from life sometimes?"
The two girls did look exactly alike. Brooke thought, gathering up more information before clicking back on her message block
"This is insane. We do look identical, really. And no... I'm not adopted, but I do live in a foster care family, if that helps."
what felt like not even ten seconds later, another message jingle popped up.
"Conspiracy? I think not. I actually live in Tree Hill, North Carolina. I would love to meet you..."
Brooke bit down on her lip. She didn't know this girl at all, yet she did feel suddenly connected to her.
"I live in Reno, Nevada. Kind of all the way across the United States. I don't know if the odds are in are favor :/" Brooke had typed back.
After about five minutes later, there were no new messages popping up on her screen. Brooke felt a slight ting of disappointment reach in her gut. This new realization though, that she was a twin. She actually did have a sister was beyond crazy towards her.
She lay down on her bed thinking things through, before alas, a message. "Don't worry about it. Already payed for the ticket. ;) All you have to do is worry about getting on the plane. Meet me Friday at 5:30 at the towns river court. Don't tell anyone who you are... It might be dangerous."
Brooke stared profound at her facebook. She couldn't just get up and move! That would be insane... Even though she had been doing it her whole life... No that was just ridiculous! She couldn't. -And why would it be dangerous?
Brooke let out a haughtily sigh, before Owen barged in her doorway. "Watch doing?" He glanced in her room, Brooke quickly shutting her laptop shut.
"Nothing. Go away, Owen." She responded throwing a blue comforter pillow at him.
"Tsk ,Tsk ,Tsk." he motioned towards her. "What would I do without you, Brookelynn. I know you have some hot desire pent up towards me. Like I said, all you have to do is ask." He grinned, puckering up his lips, as he leaned in for a kiss.
Brooke scoffed at him, using both her arms to push his strong figure away. "In your dreams, Owen." She retorted back.
He shrugged again. "Your loss, baby. I'll be in my room, next door if you need me." He got up, and left.
Brooke looked longingly at the door. She thought long and hard about her life. It's not like anybody would miss her. She'd be leaving this place anyways, the day she turned eighteen... So what could be keeping her here?
She bit her lip again, contemplating the decision before opening up her computer.
"Deal." She typed back, this being the most daring thing she was to ever attempt, that being told by her pulse racing back and forth.
She wondered back over to her closet, pulling out the infamous grey duffle bag, and filling it up with the rest of her stuff.