Stuck in Time

my life

Michaels pov

Hello my name is Michael Austin smith. I am seven years old. I have a twin sister. She is younger then me by five minutes. Her name is Rayne Marie smith. We are abused children. our mother hit us and then when she was caught we were forced to go to an orphanage because our father ditched us when he found out that our mother was pregnant. Four years later we are still here. We are bullied because well, lots of things. We are very small for our age. We look like we are three year olds. We are nerds, while most seven year olds read picture books we read encyclopedias and books with over six hundred pages. I have read the dictionary so many times i could tell you every word in it and all its definitions. We do tenth grade math, science, and history. As well as tenth grade literature. Last but not least we are mute. We speak through sign language to others and sometimes each other, but me and Rayne usually communicate with our minds. I can talk to hear by thinking things and concentrating on her and then she can send a response, or question back by doing the same thing. We dont make a noise when we laugh or cry. We cant scream. We are just used to no sound coming out. The only time any sound comes out is when we sing. That is the only exception. But no one else has heard us sing besides eachother. Plus there is one thing that no one knows, we have a photographic memory. Something that not many people have. We are different. We are depressed, and even though we are only seven; we cut. I cant even tell you the last time i havent. It started around the time a little after our fourth birthday. No one knows. We always were long sleeves. We always match. We mostly were overalls with long sleeve shirts on under them to hide the scars and bruises, but Rayne has dress overalls. Then she puts her long curly blonde hair in piggy tails with bows to match her shirt. I leave my dirty blonde curls out covering my eyes. Both with matching hazel eyes, we live in pain each and every day. The only person that is ever nice to us is the care giver ms. Rosaleen. She is the only one who Cares for us. She makes us feel safe, but we dont talk to her. She accepts us for the way we are. Shes the one who found us on the doorstep on that cold evening. Shes the only one who has never hurt us. Shes the one who changes our nappies and gets us dressed everyday. We may have book smarts but we still have to wear nappies because thats what we are comfortable with. As a baby our mother told us that the potty was a monster that would eat us because we used to play in it. She scared us and still to this day we are terrified of it. When we ride in a car we have to sit in carseats still because we are so tiny. Our docter said we have to sit in them till we are at least twelve, because he said we should hit our growth Speer by then.

Im not sure why, i guess its cause we are so small but ms. Rosaleen loves to baby us so we get a bottle each day before nap time and bed time plus we have dummys. I dont see a problem with it, ive never been taught different so i love the way im treated. The only i dont like about my life is the way me and my little sister are treated by everyone but ms. Rosaleen.