Melted

Sister

Date: September 7, 2015

Hour: 6:45 am

Writer: Alice Temp

First day of school...again. It's always the same way. EVERY-SINGLE-YEAR. At first, you die to get to school, because your summer was amazingly boring. You felt exactly like a zombie: brainless.

At last, you begin school. Maybe the first week is tolerable, but then you want your teachers dead, so your vacations can visit you before expected... not that I want to kill my teachers. I'm not a murderer. Believe me, there are teachers that you grow fond of. Is just I'm SICK of going to school. I am too old for that...

I cannot understand how I can get so easily distracted. I can keep writing about how school sucks without presenting me. How impolite. But that's me, rude to the core.

My name is Alice Rachele Temp. If you're a good observer, you might have notice it on the top corner of page. C'mon, prove it yourself. Scroll up again and see it. I'm not lying.

I'm seventeen years old. Well, I tell everybody that's my age. Why do I have to tell you my real age? To everybody, I'm seventeen (even if I look a lot more younger). I lost count somewhere of my real age... if you want accuracy, then ask my brother. He counts everything. EVERYTHING.

You want to know why I look so darn young? It's because my looks doesn't help. Worst than a pigmy:

-Five feet tall(or at least I think I get up there)

- A girl pale as a sheet

- Long flat hair, black as the night

- Skinny as a stick

- Hazel eyes, nothing like my brother's blue ones

- A walking repellent

...That last one is kind of useful. With my problem, who wants to be near people...? Who cares about my problem? And most important: Who cares about me?

(Maybe you, because you are bored and reading this). If you care so much about me, then let me keep talking about how am I.

I'm a musical girl. Music is my... escape. Since a little girl, I loved it. Dad knew my feelings towards this art, so for my fifth birthday, he gave me his most prized possession: a Stradivarius violin.

You may not know, but a Stradivarius is a very fine, rare, old and expensive type of instrument. This violin is a really, really, really, really REALLY, really valuable antique. Therefore, nobody, except me, can't touch it.

I'm still a learning musician, but I heard from a reliable source that I may be the best violinist alive on Earth. Not that I'm bragging... ahem...

Changing from a personal fact to another... I'm not an only child. I have two brothers... unfortunately. The one I was talking previously is Axel. He's my twin brother... Yep, I have a fraternal twin and is not as good as people think. Let me put it this way: You just have a very annoying person, exactly your age for life. He even counts that five minute head start when he was born ( Remember when I said I had a brother that counted everything. Viola!). For five miserable minutes he thinks he's in charge. Well, what kind of "big" brother doesn't think he's the boss?

My second brother is the baby. Well, he's not exactly a baby. His name is James and he's seven years younger than me and Axel...our little brother. It's hard to admit, but he is the protagonist of our big problem. But that is another story that none in the world is prepare. I'm part of it and look at me. Writing on my laptop, telling an imaginary guy or girl my problems... I need help.

I'm not the kind of girl that everybody wants to hang with. Even Axel made a mini dictionary of anonyms of mine. Sweet, happy, charming, clever, accepted and kind are in those pages.

Maybe even you, that you just exist in my laptop, will like my brother Axel more than me...

Everybody does...

He even may be at this precise moment writing down to another being created with his laptop. After all, mom and dad taught us to write everything. To keep our lives save in some pages. It's important to not forget what you have done, and the consequences that lead you to be the human you are today...

Mom and dad were great parents. They should have won a Nobel Prize for dealing so calmly with our not-ending problem. It's a shame that they aren't here with us anymore...

-"Alice! Axel! Breakfast is ready!"-I heard from down stairs, making me raise my view from my computer.

Saved by the bell. Oh, man! I almost forgot that today its first day of school.

I got up from my chair, flipped down my laptop and began walking towards my door. I hope it's Freach toast, because I don't want to be more grumpy than my current mode.

I bet Axel Axel is doing the same thing Madeline told us to do: Write down our problems and feelings. The kind of thing you could easily do with a friend, but didn't want to traumatized him for life... I actually feel lighter... Or maybe it's just the French toast smell.