- ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ｏｎｅ . . .
- . . . . .me and my brother have always been. . . different. its honestly hard to explain how. we always knew that we were special, ever since we began homeschool. our mother never let us step foot out of the house, she never let the doctors give us shots. she never let us run around or goof off, in fear that we would fall and scrape ourselves. whats wrong with a little blood? we would ask. she just shook her head, giving us a sad smile. "more than you could think," shed say.
. . . . .my brother is my best friend. hes the only friend i've ever had. my brother, shaun, is 14. i'm 13. he prides himself in being older, but we all know that i have more brains then he ever has. shaun has the muscle, i have the wits.
. . . . .although blood related, me and my brother look nothing alike. his face is narrow and goodlooking. he has freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose, coating evenly tanned skin, although we are never outside. his eyes are rounded into a perfect almond shape, colored a rich, golden, honey brown that glow when the sun hits them. his lashes are long and dark, his hair a stunning amber. his figure is the opposite of mine; tall and well-muscled. me? i'm tall, lanky, and scrawny. my skin is pale as if never hit once by the sun. my eyes are a solid grey and my hair is a meek blonde color. it goes down to my elbows, though i usually have it up in a poinytail. honestly, i'm a clumsy freak with social problems, living in the shadow of my perfect older brother. but, i love him. i do find myself envying him, for he is everything i wish i was. but he's my brother. . . i can't hate him. it's not his fault. besides, he does have his flaws. he's thick-headed and never thinks things through. he's the kind of person that just does. he'd run into a fight without even thinking it out. he's stubborn and doesn't like to admit he's wrong. that's why he needs me; i'm the exact opposite. i'm careful and down to earth. i always think things through. without me, shaun would probably be dead right now, and this is with our mother not letting us out of our house. wip . . .
