'Go to Hell?' Already There.

Chapter I; Lilith

"Lilith!"

I snapped awake, finding my legs tangled in my bed sheets again. As my vision swam into focus, I caught sight of scruffy black hair and hazel eyes. I focused on it and my vision cleared. A boy stood over me, looking more annoyed than concerned, and he had my wrists in a death grip.

"Good morning to you, too." I huffed.

"You need to stop thrashing in your sleep." Daman said pompously.

"I can do that. I totally have control of what my body does when I'm asleep." I replied, my voice oozing with sarcasm. I was rewarded with a flick in the ear by my twin brother. I sat up and wrenched my wrist out of his grip, making a face at him. He stuck out his tongue at me.

"Figure out a way. You don't know how to put on your prothstetic, and I don't want you to wrench it out when you're asleep." I flinched at the idea and moved that arm to look at it. Metal gleamed back at me and I felt a frown tug at my lips. The metallic arm had been a gift from my late best friend, Charlie. He was a mechanic whiz and when my arm had to be amputated after a horrible car crash, he made me a new one. It attached to the nerves that spread to my arm and moved off of those. He was the only one who had known how to put it on and had passed away before he had gotten the chance to explain it to anyone else. Daman must have caught the look in my eye, because he took my not-metal left hand and squeezed.

"Get out." I huffed, pulling my hand out of his grip. At his hurt look I rushed to continue, "I need to get dressed, we're gonna miss the metro otherwise."

"Fine. I'm gonna go see if Adam is awake." Daman closed the door behind him and I slithered out of bed. I pulled off my pajama pants and my shirt and threw them over the back of my desk chair. Pulling a shirt out of my closet, I tugged it over my head and paused in front of my mirror. I had black hair that went a little past my shoulder blades and hung in my eyes. My eyes were hazel, just like my brothers. We looked identical, minus the fact that we were different genders. He was also a bit taller than me, the top of my head being just above eye level for him. Digging through my drawers, I grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans, pulled those on, and slipped out of my room.

I was the last one down, again. Daman was perched on the table and talking happily with Mabel, our foster mother, Adam was putting together a cup of coffee, and Maddie was sitting on the couch with a book. I felt a twinge of jealousy that the twelve-year-old was homeschooled. Adam and Mabel were awesome parents to her and foster parents to Daman and I after our mom died in the car crash that took my arm from me. They were Charlie's parents, too, and he begged them to take us in before he was permitted to the hospital. It was a sore subject.

"We have to go catch the metro." I said distractedly. I reached out and grabbed Daman's hand with my left hand and my bag with my right. I plucked a package of poptarts from the bowl in the kitchen before I pulled my brother with me out of the house.

We were running before we knew it, trying to get to the station before it left. The streets were crowded and we had to push people aside to get through. By some stroke of luck, we got to the station without letting go of each other's hands and getting separated, so I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. We stood on the edge of the platform and Daman pulled out his phone while we waited. I rocked back and forth on my heels, pulling my hand out of his.

People all around us were speaking in various languages; French, English, a few others I didn't recognize. The joy of living in Paris-I knew a lot of English and limited French. I wasn't paying attention to anyone around me, preferring to tug down the sleeves of my sweatshirt to my wrists. The metal of my prothstetic was more or less hidden by the fabric, which made me feel relieved. I didn't like getting attention from strangers.