Hey Guys! As you read on, there will be some changes from what I had originally written, but I have grown apart from my extremely embarrassing writing (hopefully*low-key haven't though*) and I'm trying to develop my skills as an author. I'm literally still a kid guys so just keep that in mind and don't hold back on constructive criticism!
Clary POV
I wake up in Jon's bed. Again.
But that's no surprise, mom doesn't like the bond we share, she thinks it's unhealthy the way we hover around each other. So obviously, she tried to separate us.
Jon's room is all the way across the house. To get there I have to walk up a small staircase and down three long halls.
I do this every single night, and mom knows this, it just unsettles her. But she should know that we can't help it.
When my older brother Jonathan was born he was...odd. He was extremely quiet for a newborn, mom says she thought something was wrong with him. Even though she had stared into the dark, mysterious eyes of my father for years, the black eyes on her son's face had terrified her.
He stayed like that as the months went on, eventually saying a few words and giggling like any baby should. But mom says that he never went anywhere without his favorite stuffed toy, and though it was a major relief to hear him show emotion and cry for it, it scared her how quickly he would stop crying and sit alone if he didn't get it.
My dad, Valentine insisted that he was fine, that he was just a weird baby and that they had nothing to worry about. But mom says she saw how scared he was too. Scared because he didn't know why Jon was the way he was.
But it all changed one year later when I was born. It was strange how I ended up being born on the same date as Jonathan had...and the same time...in the same room...with the same doctor and nurses. But it all left her mind when I was wrapped up in blankets and in her arms.
She said that when dad brought an eerily quiet one-year old Jonathon to get a closer look at his new sister he laughed like crazy and reached out.
They were elated that he was happy to see me and thought nothing weird when he climbed over to sit on mom beside me. But little did they know, that he was what I was waiting for.
As I grew up Jon and I were attached at the hip. The now always smiling and giggling boy always followed his little sister. He was more emotional, more open and more everything they wanted him to be.
A strange pair we made. One baby boy with wisps of platinum white hair and charcoal eyes, and another baby girl with sprouts of bright red hair and sparking greens eyes. At least that's the way mom and dad described us.
As we grew older we always knew, that we had something special, that Jon would always have my back and I would always have his. And we even made blood vows even though we were already related.
Of course, mom thought that we were weird and took us to doctors and child psychology. The outcome was simple. Jon was always quiet because he was always alone and when I was born he finally wasn't, we built a strong sibling bond and there was nothing wrong with that.
Only when we had to go off and live our separate lives some emotional damage would occur. By ten Jon and I already had it figured out, we'd simply never live our separate lives.
As we got older we knew that the day would come when that couldn't be, he'd leave for college a year before I did and that would only be the beginning of our separation.
Now we count down the days and mom still desperately tries to separate us. I think she just wants the best for us and looks towards the future. Like what will have to happen when we part. Unmistakable pain coursed through me, and Jon, feeling it too flinched and hugged me closer to him.
"Sorry," I whisper.
That was something the doctors could never explain. Not even twins felt what the other felt. And what was even stranger was that Jon and I didn't feel each other's physical pain, we felt each other's emotional pain.
"Just try not to think about it," he whispers back. I roll over and his onyx eyes open to look into mine.
"But we can't just ignore it, what will happen when it is time? What then?" I push.
Jon hesitates trying to conjure up words I know that neither of us will find. "I don't know," he sighs.
A heavy silence fills the room.
"Hey," I say suddenly trying to lighten up the mood.
"Come on Clary, you do this every year," he groans.
"Heyyyy," I whine. He refuses to answer and I pout hoping to get an answer out of him.
"What," he sighs.
"HAPPY BIRDAY!" I scream.
"Yes yes, thank you so much I totally did not see that coming," he says sarcastically. With a roll of his eyes he turns over hoping to catch a few minutes more of sleep. I internally scoff, he sleeps more than a bear does.
"Don't you have something you want to tell me?" I ask innocently.
"Happy birthday Clares," he says knowing that it would annoy me.
"Noooooooo, you didn't say it right," I complain and reach over to punch him in the shoulder.
"Every single year," he sighs instead of exclaiming from in my opinion, the well-aimed punch to his shoulder.
I just smile at him.
"HAPPY BIRDAY!" He shouts.
"Thank you," I say simply.
"Why does it have to be 'BIRDAY' huh, why can't we be normal people?!" he rants.
"Well... It just sounds more funner," I reply. Of course, I know what the correct grammar if I just choose not to use it. It's funner that way.
"17 years old," he mutters.
"18 years old," I tease back.
He simply chooses to ignore me and for the second time, tries to go back to sleep.
"Let's get up, I want food," I proclaim feeling my stomach start to grumble.
However tired Jon might've been, he was instantly alert at the word food. I shake my head at his food aficionado qualities.
Just as we're about to get up the door flies open to reveal and very scary looking mother and a very scared looking father. Her shoulders drop before my eyes.
"See," she says dejected," Every year,".
"Mom seriously, you said it yourself, every year so stop being so surprised, just get used to it," Jon sighs.
"Jocelyn, he's right, you know that this is the way they were born," dad says nervously.
"This isn't normal," she says.
"And you've had seventeen years to accept that!" Jon yells frustrated.
The room is suddenly filled with a deafening awkward silence. Mom knows that it's something we can just turn off. Geesh it's not like Jon and I would make out or something we're siblings for crying out loud.
"Soooooooo, nice weather we're having eh?" I say awkwardly.
Jon suddenly bursts out laughing and gives me an incredulous look with one eyebrow up, curse him and his stupid one eyebrow raising skills, as if to say really.
I blush scarlet and glare at him. "Well excuse me for trying to break the silence," I mutter.
Jon falls to the ground on one knee. Sigh. Here come the theatrics.
"Apologies my lady, how may I be of service," he snickers.
"Take me to the kitchen faithful subject!"
"As you wish," he says and throws me over his shoulder.
Jon speedily walks to the kitchen in anticipation of food. He sets me down on the island and sits next to me.
"You know what I want for my BIRDAY Clary?" He asks.
"Every year Jon," I sigh.
"Now you know how I feel, anyway, ya know what I want for my BIRDAY Clary?" He puts emphasis on the "BIRDAY" trying to butter me up. He has to convince me to do this every year, God this kid.
"What?" I play along.
"JONNY CAKES!" He exclaims.
"Yes yes I totally did not see that coming," I say sarcastically repeating his statement earlier.
He just smiles at me.
"And why does it have to be 'JONNY CAKES' you can't have pancakes belong to you, pancakes belong to everyone, why can't we just be normal people?!" I exclaim with my hands thrown into the air. He dodges one on it 'sway down.
"You're not one to talk," he mutters.
"Chips, or no chips?" I give in.
"CHIPS! CHIPS AND SPRINKLES AND ICECREAM!" He bellows.
"Calm down!"
"I SHALL NOT!"
"Clary, please make the pancakes so he can shut up," dad says exasperated.
I throw dad an equally exasperated look as if to say I know how you feel and start on the batter, mixing in chocolate chips. Not long after perfect pancakes are placed on a huge platter.
It takes me an extra ten minutes to fix Jon's plate because I have to pile everything on them. I put vanilla ice cream onto the side of his plate, put rainbow sprinkles all over it, pile whipped cream on his pancakes, and sprinkle more chocolate chips over the whole thing.
"Here," I says while placing his plate in front of him.
As I walk away he clears his throat.
"You didn't say the line," he whispers.
I heave a sigh. "I PRESENT THEE WITH THE JONNY CAKES," I shout.
We have this huge obsession with speaking as if we're from a different time, 'Cause we're total weirdos.
"You guys still have school today so hurry up," Says dad.
"Schoooooool," I groan.
Why, why, why, urgh. Every year on our birthday at school we get bombarded by birthday presents, and I'm thankful but I still have some from last year stored in my locker since I couldn't carry them.
"Cheer up, you can carry your presents all at once this year," mom says.
"I disagree," Jon says while stuffing his face with ice cream.
"Come see," Dad says.
He leads us to the front of the house.
A girly scream erupts from nowhere and all heads turn to Jon who is still shrieking.
I should be screaming too, but I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming. There in front of us are two cars, a piece of cardboard with a name on it indicates that the silver fisker glinting brightly in the sunlight is Jon's.
It has two doors and tinted windows. And next to it is mine, a cherry red sports car staring me in the face. Like Jon's it has two doors and tinted windows, but one of the doors to mine is open and it's one of the one's where the door goes up.
Finally I realize that this is real life and a scream rips from my throat and I tackle my dad to the ground.
All I can do is point to the cars and back to my parents. They know how much we've been begging to stop taking the bus because our driver always drives past our stop. I'm pretty sure it's because I cut off her niece's pigtails. Aline was asking for it.
Jon has mom and is spinning her around in circles by her waist, you'd think he was on steroids.
Suddenly the urge to touch them becomes too much for us and I launch off of dad and Jon puts mom down.
Just like that were the world's fastest sprinters.
I drape myself over the hood of my car. I always understood that my family was wealthy and even though I liked to ignore it so that people liked me for me, but right now…. BLESS THE LIKE 15 COMPANIES THEY OWN!
"Thank you, thank you, thank you thank you so much," I say with my arms around my mom and dad.
Running upstairs to my room I'm eager to get ready and test out my new car on the way to school. I throw on some pain splattered jeans (stylish if you ask me) a knit black and white striped shirt and my black high-top vans.
Today was gonna be a damn good day, I think with a large grin spread across my face.
Here is the second chapter and as I said some things are changed for those of you who already started reading this before. But it's not too different. I hope you liked it and until next time!