"Tag! You're it!"
The young boy ran away from his sister, after almost slapping her on the back. He had short brown hair, but the front part was covering his eyes. It was ruffled and browner than ever after playing in the sun for hours. His eyes matched the color of his hair. He sprinted across the bright, green lawn. Once he reached the other end of the garden, he would win the bet.
He tripped over a small piece of rock a fell.
His sister caught up with him and tackled him to the ground.
"Stop it!" said the boy, struggling from the jabs his sister was sending her. "I said," he tried to fight against the giggling. "Stop it!"
The girl paused, and allowed her brother to breathe. She let out a triumphant grin. The two spaces in the front of her teeth revealed that she had just lost two of her baby teeth. Her brown, wavy hair fell to her shoulders, her eyes the color of dark chocolate. She was slightly taller than the boy. Almost everything about her resembled her brother, the same way almost everything about her brother resembled her. In other words, they were twins.
"Now will you get me that chocolate?"
Her brother sighed. She knew she had won.
"Oh, alright!" He stood up and looked down on her. "What do you want? KitKat?"
"You bet!" She said, pushing myself up. "That's my favorite, anyway."
Before she knew what was happening, she was pinned down to the ground again, her brother tickling her, his hands jabbing her sides over and over again. Tears flowed down her cheeks.
"You're getting me the KitKat!" he said. "No one shall ever like KitKat more than I can!"
"Okay!" She fought against laughing. She needed to breathe. "I'll get you the KitKat! Just let me breathe!"
He stopped tickling. This time it was his turn to flash her a triumphant grin.
She choked, almost coughing between breaths, trying to keep her breathing steady. He smirked. She glared at him.
"It's hot. Let's go get that smoothie."
The girl nodded, and agreed. "Okay," she said.
--
As she had expected, her parents were not home.
Bringing her phone up to her ear, she called Diany.
"Hey, Di."
"Anne, what's up? Why are you calling so early on a Saturday morning?"
The memories from last night rushed quickly back into my thoughts. They were vivid and every single word that was uttered could be clearly heard in my head. I shook away the memory.
"Nothing. I'll tell you later. I just wanted to tell you I'm moving in to your house."
There was the creepily silent pause. Suddenly, she spoke again.
"You better. When will you reach?"
Two hours? One hour?
Just then I realized I had no form of transport to get there. I had no license either. I was fourteen. And her place was far away.
"Sorry, Di. Can one of your sisters come pick me up? I forgot that no one is going to able to send me to your place."
Again, with that awkward silence and she didn't even answer right away.
"I'm sorry! They won't be able to!"
I was disappointed. "Can Dalencia or Jedediah pick me up?"
"My mom and dad? They left early this morning. For some kind of meeting. A meeting on a Saturday is the best. Especially if it's in the early waking hours of the morning, at five AM." I could tell that she was shaking her head on the other end. "You're lucky I picked up my phone- I'd still be sleeping in bed if my parents hadn't woken me up this morning to make breakfast for them."
I couldn't help but agree. Diany never picked up her phone calls. She always either kept in on silent, or it was switched off.
"What kind of breakfast did you make for them?" I knew what was coming next. Egg shells in the pan, too much of something while cooking, burned pancakes, and ending up almost burning the whole kitchen down.
"Well, they told me to fry some eggs and make pancakes. Some of the shells fell into the pan when I cracked the eggs. I guess I added to much salt into the pancake mix." She paused. "And too much baking powder I think." She thought for awhile and continued. "Yeah, it was baking powder."
I just knew it.
"And I'm assuming you probably almost burned the whole house down."
"Yeah. You know I suck at cooking."
"I'll teach you, you'll be my apprentice, I'll be your master. Is that alright, my apprentice?"
"Yes, master Sierra."
We laughed.
"Alright, I'll go pack the last minute junk I might miss and I'll be over there in a bit."
But I don't even know how I'll get there.
As if voicing my thoughts, Diany said,
"Wait, how are you coming if no one's sending you and I can't pick you up?"
"I'll figure it out." Even though I very well knew that I wouldn't figure it out, and by the time I stepped a foot out of my house—sorry—old place of stay, I would be lost.
"No you wouldn't." she said. Oh, Di. You know me so well. "Call me when you get lost and don't know what to do. I'll see ya."
"Bye."
"Bye."
As I sat on the bed, I stared around the place I had lived for for 14 years, or so I thought. The drawers on my study table stood almost empty, and the walls were stripped bare of any photographs that indicated anyone had slept in that room, except for one picture that stood on the desk. A picture of Reyla and Ashton Sierra. I looked at it for a full 5 minutes, memorizing each feature on their faces, honestly not wanting to leave them, but when all of last night's memories came crashing back to me, I felt a hot surge of anger flow through my body. Hot, angry tears were beginning to seep out of my eyes. All the same, I grabbed the frame and stuffed it in my bag.
You'll have time to cry later.
