The Race

Once a Year

Hey guys, so the first 2 chapters of the book were obviously in Mo's POV, but this chapter I will be experimenting with her twin sisters POV this chapter. Let me know what you think, enjoy!

Once a year

Naomi's POV

I wake up at 6:00 o'clock am, as usual. And, as usual, that's too damn early. 6:00 o'clock am can kiss my ass. I try to fall back asleep, but it seems that the harder I try the harder it is.

I rub at my eyes, doing nothing to help the fact that I already look like a raccoon thanks to my smeared, dark makeup.

Grunting, I throw my black comforter off of me and stand up, padding barefoot across my black carpet and into my dark bathroom.

I flick on the lights and groan. It's too fucking bright! Why does the world hate me?

As I start the shower and wait for the shower head to start spraying warm water, I ponder: maybe I wouldn't be such a bitch if I didn't have insomnia. Then I laugh out loud. Nah, I don't need fancy medical terms to sugar coat it. I'm just a bitch.

When the water is hot I strip and jump in, scrubbing my black hair with lime-scented shampoo before bubbling my body with shower gel, also lime-scented.

Less than four minutes later I am standing in front of the mirror in the steamy bathroom, wrapped in a towel and using another one to towel dry my hair.

As I apply black eyeliner (if you haven't guessed yet, it's my favorite color) my hair starts drying into its natural, loose ringlets. I coat my long lashes in mascara and decide I look good enough.

As I pad out back into my bedroom I turn on my expensive speakers, blaring my favorite song by ACDC; Thunderstruck.

As I flick through hangers holding my clothes in the closet, trying to decide what to wear, I sing along to the song.

"Sound of drums,

Beatin' in my heart,

The thunder of the guns!

Tore me apart,

You've been- thunderstruck."

I decide on a pair of frayed grey skinny jeans along with a V-neck t-shirt that says; "I'm not rude, you're insignificant" across the front in spindly, dark red handwriting.

I add my scruffy black converse high-tops, shrugging on my black leather jacket and pulling my black curls out from underneath.

I inspect myself in the mirror; well-fitted clothes and dark appearance in all. My frown softens a little when my gaze wanders to my emerald eyes; my dads eyes.

I don't usually let myself feel. I pretend I don't have any family, and there's no need to pretend I have no friends. It's easier that way. Because if you don't love, you can't get hurt. But once a year, on this day, I let myself hurt. Once a year, I accept the fact that even if I did love my family, we are still messed up. Once a year I go back. Once a year, I am a real person; emotion and all.

I shake my head, picking up my fresh cigarette pack from my bedside table and sliding them into my back pocket, along with my black lighter with a white skull.

As I walk towards the door, swinging my pre-packed bag over my shoulder, I feel a familiar sense of emptiness. Of being broken. Because when you tear everything out of your heart and practically wrap it in barbed wire, it leaves you with a hole. A scar.

I walk out the door, straight towards the most pain I have ever felt.

The slam of the door behind me mixes with the last scream of the song.

"You've been thunderstruck!"

Mo's POV

I wake up at 6:00 o'clock am, as I do every morning because of my scheduled jog each morning. Sunlight filters through my curtains, indicating a nice day, but that doesn't improve my mood.

Usually I have no problem getting up early and facing the day. I am strong, and I have had some nasty blows sent my way, but I don't fall. I refuse to.

But today is the one day a year that I fear I will fall. The one day a year that I do fall.

Maybe I could just stay in bed all day, and skip this heart wrenching day. This day full of misery, pain, loss, hopelessness.

But I know I can't. I can't let them down.

With a pitiful moan, I roll out of bed to face this day that comes once a year, every year.