The Grimoire

INTRODUCTIONS

Spell for the day:

<<< ANIMOZA ESPINOZA >>>

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'Dear  diary, 

              It's time to bid adieu (don't worry diary, it's not your time yet) to France and this wonderful vacation.

So here is me bidding a tearful farewell to this wonderful place. Hope we meet again.'

I scramble the last entry into my diary. I hear my mother and sister arguing downstairs.

"Ingrid! Lili! Hurry. We are running late. The flight leaves in three hours."

"Mom, there are three more hours to kill."

"Don't forget it will take an hour to reach the airport, now take these bags and hand it over to your dad"

" Ugh, mom..." Ingrid says, dejectedly. If my guess is right, my mom would probably be coming for me.

 I quickly dash a cherry-coloured lip-balm on my lips and head towards the door when I hear my name being called. Aren't I forgetting something?

"Lilia Swan, are you planning on coming down today?"

Well, you might have already guessed it. I'm Lilia, Lilia Swan. Welcome to my world. It sure will be one hell of a ride.

"Lilia Swan, I want you down this instant," her voice booms over the empty rooms.

Oh, shit. I guess I'm in trouble. I look down to realize I'm barefoot. Oh yeah, shoes!

How could I forget them?

I hurriedly grab my purse, shoes, and dash downstairs, not wanting to face the wrath of my mom.

"Yeah, Mom?" I ask, feigning innocence.

"Get in the car, missy. We are late already! If we miss this flight, we can't make it back home in time for the Fundraiser's Ball," my mother exclaims in a reprimanding manner.

"But that ball is two days away," I state.

"Exactly. We have only two days left to take care of all the decorations and arrangements. Now get in."

Well, my mom has a thing for all these events. She is the unofficial event manager for all the events in our town, be it big or small, she has to be a part of it.

She says, "Events connect people, events spark change". Her words, not mine. So she has a huge obsession with events, and fortunately, she is very good at handling them.

I get in the backside where my sister is busy fidgeting with her boots,  her blonde hair covering her face.

" Scoot!" I say, getting in.

"Geez. A little patience won't hurt," she replies irritated. Her blue eyes looking up and her lips curved down. 

I look exactly like her; you know perks of being a twin except for the fact that I don't ooze out the confidence that she does, neither do I have the guts as her. We look similar except that when I smile I get a dimple on my left and she on her right.

We both get along perfectly err - at least most of the time we do, unlike few twins I met. While Ingrid is one heck of a ball of energy, I am just the opposite, I would prefer keeping to myself. Ingrid can kick your ass and have that smug look on her face, but I get the chills to even think about kicking.