A week later, me and Peter are sitting under a tree, struggling to do our homework. He hates biology, and I loathe math. All of a sudden, Peter let's out a sharp exhale of breathe, and stands up.
"C'mon, let's get out of here", he says, piling his books together, "This isn't how I like to spend my Saturdays."
"Where are gonna go though?" I'm excited, but confused; the nearest mall is an hours drive away, and anyway, Charles has been keeping a close eye on me recently.
"Duh, we'll go to my house, my mom won't be in and I can show you my stuff."
"Stuff? What stuff?" I ask.
Two hours later, Peter's showing me his "stuff". It turns out to be a collection of stolen items, mostly TVs and arcade games. His room is pretty cool, he has loads of posters, and music is playing, the weirdest but greatest music; I've never heard anything like it.
"It's the Doors," Peter chuckles lightly, "you haven't heard of them?"
"Erm, no, they're pretty cool though!"
"Wait til you hear this one, you'll love it." The cd player flicks over to the next track suddenly, I assume Peter changed it.
"People are strange, when you're a stranger, faces look ugly, when you're alone." Peter starts to croon along to the twang of the guitar, "when you're straaaaangeee"
I smirk at him, and his awful voice. Suddenly, he stops; I blink and he's at the door, "I'm hungry, wanna see what's in the kitchen?" Before I can reply he's gone. I sigh and follow him up the stairs. That boy has too short an attention span.
His family has so many photos; on the walls, lining the fridge, on every conceivable surface in the house. One of them makes me stop and stare- it's Peter, his mom, and a young girl. They're at Disneyland, in front of the iconic castle. They look so happy. And the girl, the little girl with the brown hair and the ice cream stained smile. She has big green eyes...my eyes. I search the rest of the photos for her and come across a school photo. She has such a sweet face, you can see how she takes after her mom. There's more there though, there's a mischievous twinkle in those eyes, one that's mirrored in my own, one that I'm always told comes from...comes from my dad. At the bottom of the photo, I see the words "Wanda, aged 6."
Wanda. This girl, is she...my sister?
This chapter is Hella short but I've been a bit busy lol, I'm hoping to work on this more! Tell me what you guys think! X
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Daughter of Steel
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