Disclaimer:If we owned them, we wouldn't be here! We only own, Dylan, Chris and those random people!
A/N: Enjoy!
Dylan Denvers taped her sister as she surfed. Dylan and her younger twin sister, Crystal or Chris as she liked to be called were at the beach. Chris was surfing and Dylan was taping with a video camera that she had bought with some money she had saved.
Dylan and Chris have been in the foster care system since they could remember. Their mom had died after giving birth to them and they didn't know what happened to their father. All they knew was that the police had taken them and their father had dissapered.
Dylan scratched at her arm and saw a old scar that a foster parent had given her. She shook her head. She and Chris only had three more years to go, before they were out on their own.
Focusing on Chris again, Dylan didn't notice Amy, who was a major bitch to the twins, coming up behind her.
"Well, look at this. It poor poor, Dylan." Amy taunted.
Dylan rolled her eyes. "Shuttap, Amy." she said, trying to control her anger. Out of the two, Dylan had a more of a temper then Chris.
"Why don't you make me bitch?" Amy asked.
Dylan placed her camera down and stood up. She faced Amy. "Look, Amy I ain't in the mood for your shit." Dylan said, wanting to punch Amy.
"Then you need to look in the mirror." Amy said.
Chris who sensed her sisters anger, got out of the ocean and walked to her sister with her board under her arm. "Amy, just leave me and my sis alone." Chris said, standing beside Dylan.
"How about no, bitch?" Amy asked. Dylan took a step forward to hit Amy, but Chris grabbed her shoulder.
"Come on, sis we got to get back to the foster house." Chris said.
Dylan nodded, angrily. The twins grabbed their stuff, not listening to Amy and walked off the beach. They slipped their bags on their backs and sat their skate boards on the ground. They skated to their latest foster house, without talking.
Chris and Dylan both loved skating and surfing but Chris was more of the surfer and Dylan was more of the skater.
"So, how long do you think it will be before the Dempsons get rid of us?" Chris asked, her older sister.
Dylan shrugged. "They've already kept us for two weeks already, so sometime soon I guess. The longest anybody has ever kept us was for two months. And they were trying to save our souls, 'cause we believe in the supernatural." Dylan said.
Chris nodded. Her and Dylan believed in the supernatural. Ghosts, spirts, and all of that. Even aliens. Alot of foster homes thought they were weird for that reason and they got kicked out of the home and/or the group home.
Chris slipped her Ipod ear phones into her ears. She didn't feel like talking about their sucky live anymore. The sound of Green Day's "American Idiot" came pounding from her ear phones.
Dylan sighed. She slipped her own Ipod ear phones into her ears. The sound of Breaking Benjiamn's "Dance With The Devil" played for her.
When they got back to the foster house, they saw a old impala out front.
"Sweet car." Dylan commented. She had always liked cars.
"Yea." Chris said. So did Chris.
They walked in and into the living room and saw their foster parents sitting across from two men. One with shaggy brown hair and the other with kinda dirty blond hair.
Hope you liked.