Identity [ON HIATUS]

1. Daisy Isn't Brave Enough

I woke up to the sound of Nirvana.

Rose moved out of our room and in to the spare room almost four years ago, but I could still hear the screaming guitar and the angry men from across the hall. It was 7:30 on the first day of senior year, I didn't need this.

I let my feet dangle from my high, single bed, and stared at the other side of my bedroom, the side that used to be Rose's. It was so long ago, when the walls were painted a dark purple and covered in posters of bands I'd never heard of. That was just the beginning, when the new Rose was just blossoming. It had been crudely painted over, in an attempt by my father to make the side match my side; a faded yellow.

Vomit yellow, Rose used to call it. I liked it; it was gentle and delicate and easy on the eyes. Granted, people mistook it for magnolia, the cheapest paint colour in the catalogue, but I knew that it was called faded sunflower. It took a few coats, and when faded sunflower peeled, the purple came through.

I took off my pyjamas and rooted around my closet for something to wear. I glanced outside at the rising sun; it was September but the air was still warm. Wet, but warm. My hair would perm slightly in the moist weather, and I looked awful in hats. I found, hung between two coats, a pastel blue sweater with a lace collar and a white skirt. A mix of summer and fall would work.

I pulled and tugged my wispy, blonde hair into a plait that fell perfectly around my shoulder. It was rarely a different style; easy and simple was what I liked.

My bathroom was shared with Rose, and it would be the first time I saw her this week. All weekend she'd been God knows where with God knows who, and a thing inside of me wanted to know it all. When she started pulling all-nighters and sneaking out, I wanted to hear every detail. I would feel a part of it without actually leaving the house. But as Rose grew more independent, our late night talks became shorter and hasty, before we stopped them completely.

The bathroom was my best bet to hear at least a smattering of Rose's antics.

"Good morning," I sang slightly, facing my sink and staring at her through the mirror. She stood the exact same way, except at her sink next to mine with giant panda eyes. She'd slept in her clothes from the night before and there were blonde hairs peering at her roots.

"Hmmmorn'" She grumbled, and splashed water on her face. Rose rubbed vigorously at her eyes to take the black away, although I knew she was going to replace it in a little while anyway. What was the point? I did the same, but I used a flannel to wipe away the sleep and grease before moisturising.

"So..." I said, trying to fill the silence. "How was your weekend?" Rose merely shrugged, before turning on the shower and leaving for her room again. It wasn't like I wasn't allowed to go in her room; I'd seen it before, many times, but it was kind of frightening. I was worried I'd step on something sharp and get tetanus.

But I did it anyway, peering my head around her door frame just as she was pulling on a clean band tee with the sleeves rolled to the middle of her biceps. She noticed me, before rolling her eyes and turning down what was now The Rolling Stones.

"It was kind of a trashy weekend. I don't remember coming home last night. That what you wanted to hear?"

"Why can't you remember coming home?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Why d'you think?" Rose smirked, before picking up a black back pack from her disgusting floor and pulling out a small make up bag. I raced back to my sink and stared at my reflection when she returned to her own sink and mirror, and began poking and prodding at her face.

"I'm breaking out."

"It's the makeup. You need to take it off before you sleep."

"I know, Daze."

I shrugged, and went for my moisturiser again before Rose swiped it before me.

"Hey!"

Rose laughed. "Don't get all touchy. I need to take care of my skin and yours looks nice and healthy. What is this shit anyway?"

"It's Nivea and it's mine. I'm not allowed to use your stuff..."

She slapped a bit on her face, rubbing it in fast and hard. "Well I've had a change of heart. Sharing is caring! After all, twins share everything, right?"

I rolled my eyes, and painted my face with the makeup I wore every day. I didn't have time to experiment.

I was finished ten minutes before Rose, who spent the rest of her morning making herself look as scary as possible. Sharpening the edges around her dark red lips, covering her cracked nails with black polish, covering her eyelids with charcoal black eyeliner. Rose was full of spikes and sharp pointy things. An intricate defense system she'd created for herself. No one would go near her if they dared, unless they were brave enough.

I never thought I was brave enough.

I knew she was ready when her music suddenly switched off half way through a verse and her chunky boots came down the stairs. I sat with mom and dad at the breakfast bar when Rose strolled in and made herself a cup of coffee. She said nothing, I said nothing, and my parents just glared at her; it was their signature look when Rose entered the room, disappointment.

"Where the Hell have you been, Rose?"

She took a sip from her travel mug. Oh no, wait, my travel mug. "Out and about."

"I hope not out with him." My dad couldn't even say it. He bunched up his newspaper slowly, before setting it down gently, calming himself.

"Him?" She loved playing dumb.

"You know full well who we're talking about." Even I knew full well who they were talking about, and we didn't talk about him in this house. Already, this was a painful morning.

"Well, I'm off to school." Rose answered sprightly, ignoring our parents completely, and eyed me as she walked backwards towards our front door. "You comin' princess?"

I hopped off my bar stool and began to follow her. I walked slowly, waiting for her to walk outside before rushing back to my parents to give them both a kiss on the cheek.

"Keep an eye on her, won't you sweetie?" My mum whispered as she hugged me tightly.

"Mom, you know it's impossible."