Hi, I'm Mia, and before I start, if you were expecting some elaborate start to a fantasy novel then you've come to the wrong place this is just my story. I'm 17, My life's pretty simple or well it was. I live in a humble house, or a mansion you could call it, with my parents, who are insane millionaires and my twin brother, Zach. Okay, let's go further back this makes no sense.
So, back when Zach and I were just tiny little things in a womb- okay maybe too far back. Just a little further.
Here we go, A little house with a white picket fence, just outside of London. February 14th 2006 our seventh birthday, the last happy memory I have of my parents before everything got flipped upside down. Zach and I were sitting in our room opening all the birthday presents we'd received. This was tradition, us after each birthday party, sitting like the two best friends we are, and opening all our presents. Our parents, Molly and Steve, sat beside us, smiling at the little cheers and giggles coming from their excited children. It was quiet outside, most of the world was asleep, everything was peaceful, that was until we heard the gunshots, three exactly. Even after ten whole years I, remember the look on my mother's face as she rushed out after my father to see what was going on . Zach and I huddled together under out bed, even at age seven he was more brave than I was. He held me tight and told me everything would be okay, and for a while, I believed him.
I was just starting to calm down when we heard a scream, I immediately recognized it to be my mother's, it wasn't a scream of frustration like she sometimes let out when things weren't going as planned, it was a scream of shock and terror. A few seconds after the scream we heard three gunshots, then everything went silent. You could've heard a pin drop.
Everything was a blur after that as we slowly crawled from under the bed. Our neighbor, Lydia, rushed into our house telling us that everything would be just fine. We didn't know what had happened, so we asked. Lydia told us that our parents were in a better place, and that they went there because they tried to save a great man. Eventually we got the point. Even though we were only seven years old, we understood that once someone was gone, they were never coming back. Zach and I held on to each other as police officers rushed around us and a social worker promised us that we wouldn't be separated.
Basically what we found out later is that the gunshots were fired by a man trying to break into Lydia's house. Her husband, Mark, had confronted the man trying to enter their living room. At this point, the man hesitated and fired his gun, missing Mark twice. When my parents rushed out, they tried to call the police, but the man lunged for Mark and said that he'd shoot if they did anything. Long story short, the man went insane and shot all three of them. At least that's how the social worker explained it to us.
Lidiya lost her husband that day, and we lost both our parents.
Fast forward ten days and we were put up for adoption. Fast forward six months more and a couple, Hilary and Michael Winterton, came to see us. They wanted to adopt. They seemed like nice people. The social worker, Christy, said they were very nice people who could give us everything we wanted. What's even better? They wanted both Zach and I, so we got adopted. By millionaires, and even though they could give us everything, they constantly reminded us that they were not trying to replace our parents, but were only filling in. Either way, Zach and I treated them the way we would treat our own parents. Though every now and then, memories were too much to handle and one of us would shut everything out. This still happens sometimes, it's rare, but there are some things even years of therapy can't fix.
So yeah, that was ten years ago. Now Zach and I are almost 17. Still best friends. I guess we'll see what happens next.
