(DONE)
It's come across everyone's mind once or twice about why Remus Sanders is like the way he is. Even Remus himself has wondered why is he so different from Roman. If they're twins aren't they supposed to be similar. Why is it that Roman has gre...
"I'm just saying, that maybe that isn't the best thing for Chloe to have." Logan said as Patton handed their daughter a cookie. Patton laughed as he broke it in half, eating one and handing the other half to Chloe who ate it in delight. Logan sighed.
"I'm sure it'll be fine." I reassure Logan. Logan looks at me a little irritated. Him and Patton haven't slept in awhile. Chloe may be only around 2 years old, Emile around 3 (looking to be 28. Walking, talking and dressing like a 28 year old guy, because he's sorta Thomas and Thomas is grown up) and Virgil....being Virgil. Yes, those are the Picani's. Logan married Patton, they adopted Virgil (who became Virgil Picani), then they had Emile Picani and a year later they had this precious little monster: Chloe Picani.
"She'll be fine, honey." Patton says. He cradles their daughter. She laughs as she tugs on his glasses. Patton gasps and chuckles. I've known Patton long enough to know that he's just as tired as Logan, but is much better at hiding it.
"I'll hold her, Dad." Virgil said. Patton gentilly gave Chloe to Virgil and Chloe enjoyed the sight of her big brother. Emile was at work right now, so he's not here.
I enter my mind as I watch them. Remus and I used to be like that. Whenever we would part, I would count the hours until I got to see him again. I was so upset when we had to leave for something and we couldn't see each other for the rest of the day. A memory runs through my mind. We were around 9 or 10.
"What're you doing?" I asked Remus. He was playing with red paint. I walked towards him and saw a white canvas with red handprints on it. But, the handprints looked smeared.
"I'm not sure. The idea just popped into my head." He said. He looked at me, then back at his art. He smiled when he saw it. I could tell, even though I was behind him.
"What's the message?" I asked. He looked confused at me. I noticed the red paint on his hands. His palms were facing up at the ceiling. "This has to mean something." I tell him. He looks back at it. He ponders. I see him tilt his head and place his still red painted hands on his chin and side. He stands up and stands next to me, looking at the red canvas from further away. He's still thinking.
"What if it's a story of a person whose colors on their hands represent the color of their soul. When they couldn't find out, they rubbed their hands on the canvas, it smeared, yet it showed them that their soul was red. Indicating love." Roman said. Remus scoffed at me.
"I see it as a person who got stabbed, held their wound trying to stop the bleeding, then when that didn't work, they pressed their hands to the wall and this is what it left behind as they slid down to the floor to their death." Remus said. I laughed. I noticed the leftover paint on his chin.
"That's silly. Who would want to murder anyone here?" I asked. Remus pushed me slightly, but I pushed back. Then we wrestled a little bit while we laughed. We got red paint everywhere.
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I didn't know it then, but it should've been obvious he wasn't like me. I still wonder why he isn't. Perhaps I've known someone who does. Our mother. Our mother knew everything about everyone. It sincerely amazed me by how much she knew about everything. If we wanted to know something about a certain person in the village, she'd give us the whole story.
So, what's so different about me and Remus then? Only mother would know, and I plan to find out. I mean, she's gotta know why I'm so different from my brother. If me and Remus don't know and Logan isn't even 100% sure, Mother would know.
I want to know why we're so different. Not just because we represent two different versions of Thomas' Creativity, but there's gotta be another reason. Another reason that I just can't seem to put my finger on.
