Alternate

Prologue

There was a quiet house next to a lake. The bronze shoreline glittered under the starlight like a discolored sky, dotted with rocks and shells like ornaments adorning the sand. An occasional crab or bird might find its way to the sand but would be scared away by the running children, eager to splash around the incoming tides. The pond was calm and boats shifted at the dock with the ebb and flow of the tides.

The house was small and old. White paint peeled off the wooden planks that formed the structure of the cabin and dust collected on the ledge of the windows. The glass was foggy and lifeless, and only dim light could make it through. The shutters were sad and droopy as if they wished they could be on a better house, or maybe shingles on the roof. The stars were perfectly visible from the view of a single rocking chair on the front porch. It rocked back and forth with the wind quietly, as if waiting for someone.

The house was quiet, yet buzzing with activity. A tall woman with chocolate hair and hazel eyes that beamed watching her twin sons play together. Her father, an old man with bright eyes, and a white beard dappled with silver, laughed while sipping his tea. A girl brushed her auburn hair and slipped on a silk nightgown given to her by her twin brothers in the other room. Another woman knitted in the corner and hummed, brushing her red hair out of her face. Two old brothers bumped cups of beer and argued over whatever they could see of the football game on the old television. And an old woman ambled outside to look at the stars, with every step merging her cane with the soft wood on the porch.

The rocking chair creaked under her weight as she studied the patterns in the sky, and the empty space lacking of a moon. An old yellow dog slept peacefully on the other end of the porch. Every so often its tail would rise and fall as he presumably dreamt of adventuring as a puppy. Aside from him and the stars, her only other companion was the gravestone close to the house, with wilted flowers atop the ground it occupied. The words that graced the stone were barely visible, yet they would never fade. The only word which had any remaining visibility to it was the word, "Beloved".

Seconds later the activity in the cabin had ceased. The twin boys were in bed, the old woman slept in the rocking chair on the porch, the girl sang her brothers to sleep and the adults settled. The men shook hands and went to their separate rooms and the women followed their husbands.

The children retired to their two separate beds. The older girl in one bed, her brothers in the other. Across the room from her, the boys held hands and stared into each other's eyes as if reading a book. One boy had dark grey-blue eyes and blond hair that barely touched the tips of his ears. The other had striking green eyes the color of rushing water in a forest and brown hair that arched over his forehead in bangs.

The blonde boy shut his eyes suddenly and the other boy laughed. "I win!" With his free hand he punched his brother playfully.

A rustling noise was heard across the room followed shortly by a girl's sleepy voice, "Guys, what are you doing? You need to go to sleep." She rubbed her eyes slowly and yawned.

The boy with brown hair sat up and puffed his chest with pride. "I finally beat Colby at staring!"

The girl rolled her eyes and faced the boy, "Congratulations Brent. I don't care. And it's called a staring contest."

The second boy sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes, "Sidney, don't be mean..." he laid his head back on the pillow, trying to sleep.

Sidney laughed, "Well, he was being mean to you, so I was mean to him." She stuck her tongue out at Brent.

Instinctively he retaliated and put his hand to his ear, making an antler shape. "Youwr a moooothse!" He laughed at her with his tongue still hanging out of his mouth.