The Anomaly Project

CHAPTER ONE

AUTUMN

Honestly, I think waking up is the hardest part of the day.

I mean, when your subconscious pulls you out of a peaceful, mysterious dream-land and forces you back into the real world - and it doesn't matter whether you're waking up in a giant, fluffy bed, or in a tent in the wilderness, or on a stone-cold floor - the first and only thing you think when you wake up is I want to go back to sleep.

And then you force your eyelids open, and you stare long and hard at the first thing you see; which could be the ceiling, or the door, or your feet; and you realize you can't stop this day from happening, so you have to stand up and get ready to face whatever harsh realities life has to throw at you today.

Oh, quit being so melodramatic.

Startled, I look up from where I'm lying in bed. Noah stands across from me, leaning back against the wall. His arms are folded over his chest and he's smirking at me.

It's not that bad, he continues, speaking in my head. You're just exaggerating.

I slowly sit up, pushing the blanket off my legs and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Are you here just to critique my thoughts, or what?

No, I'm here to tell you to get up. Dad went out to get food, Noah responds, and leaves the room.

I have to admit, sometimes I'm jealous of Noah's telepathy. It's pretty cool what he can do with it. Besides mental communication and reading minds, he can sometimes even control people's thoughts. The ability I was given is telekinesis, so I can move things with my mind. Not as sneaky as Noah's, but quite a bit more destructive. Pretty fitting to our personalities, I suppose.

Very fitting, Noah agrees, and I roll my eyes.

Do you ever stop listening?

Sorry, but you have loud thoughts. They match your loud personality. Are you going to get up or not?

You can be a real pain sometimes, you know.

I can sense his smile. Right back at you.

With a sigh, I sit up and swing my feet over the side of the bed, pausing to change quickly, although it's not likely that I'll be doing anything particularly interesting today. Dad doesn't let us out into the city for fear of someone seeing us and reporting us to the government.

I shuffle down the hall, yawning, and join Noah in the kitchen. Our house is tiny, but we've managed to work with what we have, which is a stove, two small tables, and three chairs. There's one bed, which we take turns sleeping in. Whoever doesn't get the bed sleeps on the floor.

"Good morning," Noah says with a smile. How he manages to be so cheerful in the morning, I'll never know.

I grunt in response and drop into a chair. Noah goes to the window and peers out. I can tell by the light that it's already around 9:30 in the morning.

"You let me sleep late," I mutter, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Noah turns around and grins at me. As always, I'm struck by how much he looks like me. Although I guess that's to be expected for twins.

Still, given that we're different genders, our resemblance is obvious. Same straight auburn hair, light green eyes, straight nose, sharp jaw. Even the same bizarre dimple in our foreheads. 

(Seriously. Who has a dimple in their forehead?)

Our features work a lot better on a male face, I think grudgingly, which is why Noah's the more attractive twin. I, on the contrary, usually just look angry all the time.