It was late October and the decorations had already gone up all over the neighbourhood, along with the fallen amber leaves and muddy puddles. The sky was dark, the kind of sky you would imagen in Dracula. My suitcase was being dragged, roughly, across the gravel making a disturbance in the quietness that ran a chill across the street.
Meanwhile, I sat on my cold mattress and threw my ball across the room, throwing and catching it in a speedy rhythm. Time seemed to slow down, as if someone had just pressed a big red button and paused the extreme thought rushing round my head. I looked up, out my great balcony doors, towards the heavy rain clouds that threatened my flight and realised that the small voice inside my head was screaming, shouting trying to cause movement in my body. In invisible agony, I let my head fall back onto the old hard, double mattress that had supported my growing body for the past 4 years. I recollected my old bunk bed that I shared with my long lost sibling, and the creak that it made during the night when he would scream out in silence, trapped in his head, mute to the world.
It has been 4 months since... since he left me, I thought we would have each other for ever, twins stay together. But no, he was unfairly ripped from my arms. And now, I am alone. Now one wants to take in a damaged 16 year old boy who lost his other half, they all want babies that are new and fresh and well, don't have mental health problems. But I lay speechless because still, even though I only have two years left in foster care, a couple want me. They want to take care of me and give me a home that I deserve. Ha! I will laugh in their stone cold faces and spit on the ground that they call home because, truly, no one want me and no one ever will.
I could here my name being called from the car, so I swept up of the bed pulling dust through the room. I stoped for just a millisecond to take in his empty bed and his stack of medical care next to his lost head.
The car was boring. She talked at me. I didn't listen, why should I? The only exiting thing that happened was when the rain began to fall, drumming on the metal roof of the car.
YOU ARE READING
Wild flowers
RomanceI was a twin and I will never again be a twin. The world is pointless and only I can see the beauty behind the rain. That was my trail of thought before I met her, the colour to my sky.
