Butterfly

Keeley

"What are your goals for your life?"

"I want to write."

"And how will that help you?"

"It'll clear my mind. And maybe I can write a book."

"Honey, how will writing help you in the future? Use your brilliant mind for better things, not useless hobbies."

I wish I lived in the city. If you get angry, you run off angrily to the nearest café, or bistro. Where the hell am I to run off to in a the suburbs? I have nowhere to run when I'm angry at my sister, or my mom, or my dad. I have to sit there and be annoyed, and then people complain about how damn miserable I always am. Sorry I'm not shitting rainbows twenty-four seven.

"Keeley, please." My mother continues, "think of something you really want to do that's more... Useful."

I stare at the woman for a second. Can I escape to that bistro now? "I told you, Lara, I only want to write."

And the woman isn't even my mother! Let me explain the story of how she came into my life, from beginning to end. 

My name is Keeley "Daisy" DeFord. I have a twin sister Alexandra, Alex, and a stepbrother named Jack. His last name is Martes, but that has nothing to do with what I have to say, really.

When Alex and I were born, something went wrong. Our due date was in September, but it was April, and Alex was ready to be born.

I, on the contrary, was not.

While Alex was a healthy baby girl, surprisingly, I was premature, underweight, with any and all problems that could have occurred, occurring. Alex looks exactly like me, except her hair mimics the color of wood that's only been slightly burnt, and mine is honey blonde with ash blonde lowlights. The both of us have fair skin, light freckles dusted across our noses and cheeks, green-grey eyes, a button nose, and Cupid's bow lips. 

Lara is tall and willowy with bleached blonde hair that she keeps trimmed to her ears. My dad is slightly tall with dark hair that he buzzes short. Jack towers over everyone in the house at six-foot-two, but his elbows and knees have no meat to them, making them a natural weapon for him to use. His blonde hair is quiffed up all the time, and he has crystal-blue eyes that make his look straight out of The Host. Jack looks exactly like Lara.

It took six months for me to be completely out of the hospital after I was born. Three days after coming home, though, my mother said, "fuck this," and walked out. Charming.

My dad was forced to raise two little girls on his own for five years. One lucky day though, he met a woman named Lara who fell in love with him after three dates.

Unluckily for me, they got married.

Lara hates me, and we butt heads constantly. A ninety- nine on a spelling test back in elementary school was unacceptable. Not perfect enough for her.

"You're brilliant!" She'd say, "there's no reason for these kind of grades."

In which I'd respond, "But it's only a ninety- nine! I tried my best!"

"This is not your best, and you know it." And I'd be sent off to my room just like that. Not as punishment, just so I was out of her hair.

"Keep thinking, Keeley. You can do much better." Lara says, standing and walking out of the room. Her presence is almost immediately replaced by Jack's, though, and I sigh deeply as my moment of sweet solitude is gone.

"Is she still torturing you about the 'do some good with your future' thing?" He asks, and I see the ghost of his smirk as he speaks. His blue eyes twinkle in amusement, as he knows how Lara has been pestering me constantly about the subject since my fifteenth birthday. She had given up on Alex three detentions in, realizing there was truly no hope.

"Take a good guess." I reply sarcastically, opening a drawer in the kitchen and plucking a Twinkie from inside.

"Don't let her get to you, she's only threatening you with the "horrors"," Jack makes quote marks in the air with his hands, "of living without a generic job as soon as you get out of college . In her defense, it's just the way her parents taught her."

I roll my eyes after a bite. "She's ridiculous." I whine.

"Again, don't let her get to you." Jack repeats with emphasis, giving me a hug before taking the stairs to his room two at a time.

I sigh loudly, flopping onto the couch and flicking on the television. Lara was never going to give up on this, not until she had gotten her way. Jack knew this, but he spoke optimistically to try and raise my spirits. And anyway, he wouldn't understand, Lara saw nothing to criticize or scold in him.

Alex wouldn't, either. Her troublemaking days are over, but Lara... Fears her? I don't know, but something in Alex makes her back down. It may be her sarcasm, or her sass that comes so naturally to her.

So, Lara is left with me.

All flaws are pointed out and criticized, all movements watched carefully, any signs of imperfection and bam! The involving the horrors of living imperfectly returned. I've learned to act like I'm listening, when in reality I'm not.

I wonder if that's what all mothers are like; I sure as hell wouldn't have a clue if they are or aren't.

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Hello to anyone reading this, and I hope you liked it! There is more to come, so get ready. This story has potential...

I hope.

Love to all,

D.S.