Twin Souls: The Story Behind The Broken Roses

Chapter One: June 15, 2014

Emma Walsh

Emma wasn't sure when her mental state began to be something that her parents cared about, they had ignored her problems for years without much of an issue... and she wasn't even sick, the things that she did were all justified; she'd burnt her dorm hall down with good reason, she'd vandalized everything with good reason... But no one ever stopped to ask why that was... And now she was stuck at a stupid wilderness camp... Ridiculous.

"Honey, I know you don't want to go, but I really think it's for the best... the guidance counselor even said that Wingwood Prep would consider allowing you to come back if you showed real improvement in this program. All you have to do is work well with others and show your commitment to growing as a person." Emma rolled her eyes and slid down in her seat, staring out the tinted window. She wanted to be at home, even if it meant spending the summer alone in her bedroom staring at a wall the entire time. This camp wasn't going to do anything for her, it was going to do about as much as the suspension itself had done.

"I don't want to. I want to be at home, I wanna spend my summer how I always do - alone." She grumbled, and her mother sighed and turned around, resting a hand on her knee. She pulled it away, scooting toward the door... Her mom only gave her physical affection when she felt guilty for the things she'd done, it felt dirty to even accept it, considering the situation they were in.

"Emma, it was either this or they were going to press charges, which your father and I would have happily paid-." She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she threw her hands up in the air. Yeah, 'happily paid'. If they would've 'happily paid' it, she wouldn't be here at this stupid fucking wilderness camp with other 'troubled' kids for the fucking summer.

"Then why didn't you? Isn't that the entire point of being rich, so we can buy our way out of everything? What good is the money if we aren't even going to use it for something worthwhile?" Emma asked, and her mother gave her a stern look, something that she clearly wasn't well versed in because it did nothing to scare her... That was probably a side effect of being raised by mostly nannies - her mother's frustration had no effect on her, she could just look away and it was gone.

"Ahem. We would have happily paid, but then you would not learn anything from the experience." So? "You committed a felony, Emma. That's serious." It was a felony, but she didn't really see it as all that serious.

"The fire was an accident." She knew that wasn't something they were ever going to believe that, even if they claimed to. Ever since she'd gotten home from school they'd been treating her like she was some kind of live wire... One wrong step and they'd be dead.  It wasn't like she knew people were still inside, she hadn't meant to hurt anyone.

"But the graffiti? The damage to school property not related to the flame?" Her mom asked. She slumped down, crossing her arms... Yeah, she really had nothing to say about that aside from the fact that anyone with half a brain would've done it.

"... I had a good reason for that, you know that, you were at the hearing." She mumbled, and her father sighed, fixing the rearview mirror so he could make eye contact with her. It made her uncomfortable, they didn't do that very often.

"Em, we believe you didn't light anything on fire, we believe that at least that much was accidental, but you're not giving us much of a choice to believe that you had nothing to do with the rest of it. You confessed, they saw you on tape... There is no plausible deniability." Part of her understood their frustration with that, they could've played it off if she hadn't said she'd done it... but that was half the reason she admitted it in the first place. She wanted to be able to leave. "Give it a try and you'll be back at Wingwood for seventh grade." Oh, she'd literally rather die than go back there... Everyone was so plastic, so fake, so mean... And disconnected with reality. She didn't want to be them.