Crooked

Chapter 1

OC POV

I was born with my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck five times. The doctor said he'd never seen a baby in his 5,000 deliveries survive with that much cord wrapped around their neck. I should have died, but I survived. They thought I would grow up mentally handicapped, but I insisted on growing up fit and mentally sharp. I pride myself on a polished appearance, a keen eye, and a fit body. But I often think about that umbilical cord. Maybe I'm messed up in the head because of it, but I don't know—my mind feels normal to me. My twin sister, Isabella, was born completely normal—no cord, no complications. I often wonder if perhaps I'm a bit odd because of that.

I frequently find myself people-watching and reading about psychology. What I've learned is that popular media and stereotypes about human behavior are the foundation of most human personalities. The common human is, to quote *Brave New World, "meat." The modern human is simply meat. Through my readings, I've also learned things about myself: I am narcissistic, vain, and selfish. I'm just a high schooler. However, this self-awareness is freeing, and I've fully embraced both the good and the bad of myself. Now I don't have to fight myself over the things I want to do.

I ponder these things as I get ready for my new school in Washington with my sister, Isabella. Isabella is worse than the average person in my mind. She is weaker, shyer, and uninteresting. To be fair, I'm not very talkative either, but at least I make an effort to look presentable. My poor sister goes to school in sweatpants and a hoodie, usually without doing her hair and without makeup—she practically looks like she just rolled out of bed. I, on the other hand, get up four hours early for my extensive workout routine. I only work out for aesthetics, but it's still a good stress reliever, though not as good as running. I run five miles a day at exactly a 7:00-minute pace, and I love it. It's the perfect sport—the calm focus it brings to my life is essential for keeping my mind sane. The euphoria after a run, paired with the envious stares of suburban dads and the faint smell of dry sweat and blood in the back of my nose, is enough to make a man cry. After this roughly two-hour workout, I take a shower, get ready for school, and meticulously clean my room. Then, for the last hour, I read in the living room. I'm currently reading *Brave New World*—hence the "meat" reference earlier. Books are one of the few things my sister and I agree on. Unfortunately, the books she likes are ridiculous—about wizards and magic rings. I prefer psychological thrillers to fantasy and sci-fi. My favorite book is *Intensity*. Edgler Vess is a pure representation of a man living a life not driven by media or stereotypes, but *Brave New World* is good. It's unique, and I really relate to the main character. I was just getting into it when I heard the padding of feet on the stairs. My sister was coming downstairs wearing what I fervently hoped wasn't her outfit for the rest of the day.

I, myself, was quite angry about the style restrictions in Forks. It was my one and only grievance about moving here. How does one pull off a raincoat? I had decided that being plain was acceptable, so I wore a plain black V-neck shirt covered by a form-fitting sleek black jacket (no hood), blue jeans, combat boots, and a broad black leather belt. The look wasn't very good by my standards, but it would suffice.

"Isabella," I said as she started eating her cereal. She jumped a little and spun to face me, smiling like an idiot—classic Isabella. People like her, physically weak creatures, have adopted over time a tendency to be sweet and kind to stronger, more powerful people, and of course, males her age love that. This method itself is a powerful control tactic. My mother and father have always favored her over me, and I suspect this is why my thoughts are interrupted by her soft voice.

"Good morning, Joey."

I moved to sit in front of her. "So, first day of school, and you're wearing that?" I put it lightly, but inwardly I was groaning. These people's first impression of me and my sister would depend on her appearance as well as mine.

She grinned a little and made some cereal for herself. "Yeah, well, you know how I don't like attention."

I inwardly rolled my eyes. The modesty was a bit overkill. Outwardly, I laughed a little. "But all those new boys... you're the new girl in this small town. That's a big deal."

She blushed and looked down at her food. "Shut up, Joey," she mumbled around a smile.

I smiled a genuine smile. I was glad she never dated. Once she did, I'd have to be her protective twin brother, as would be socially expected, and that would be hard because, truthfully, if she died right now, I wouldn't care at all.

"What about you? All those girls?" I mused. I hadn't thought of that. I admire female beauty, of course, but I never care about their personalities. Being physical with a woman seemed undignified. Regardless, I'd given it a lot of thought and decided that being completely detached from female interaction was best. I knew I had many admirers, and I was often told of my beauty, but I don't think they ever realized my favorite part of their attention was their disappointment when I refused it. That kind of power is intoxicating.

"I suppose we'll find out," I responded.

We ate the rest of the meal in silence—well, at least hers was silent. I was thinking, as usual: *Am I a hypocrite for caring about how others see me?* The conclusion: no. My care for my appearance was solely to mask my true feelings about life, which, if made public, would inevitably land me in a psychologist's office. My thoughts were just too emotionless, which, if we're being honest, is the correct way to think.

My thoughts were interrupted by my sister. "We should get going. We need to get there early to pick up our schedules."

"Very well. I'll drive," I replied. Today would be fun, I decided. These small-town people would be interested