Charlotte could remember when she was little, that she used to be petrified of thunder. Someone had told her that thunder was enchanted so that if you heard it, you would immediately be struck by a bolt of lightning. Now, as a thirteen year old, she was to wise and mature for these kinds of things. Those times were the past, not the future, when she had been a silly, quite annoying, fledgling. Most people said that she missed her father. Maybe she did, and maybe she didn’t. Charlotte would never let on.
Tonight was one of those days when you discover you’ve been hiding something from yourself. I was laying awake, deep in thought, when I heard the rumbling of thunder. A bolt of lightning soon followed. It was actually quite a beautiful thing- the way it lit up the sky, wanting to show the world its power. When I was little, I used to go downstairs whenever there was thunder. My mom would then hug me and cuddle me until the fear passed away like an ocean tide. Once, my dad was down there. Before he got hurt. Before he left me forever.
Being an only child sucks. I mean, really stinks. Excuse my language there. All the time I hear people complaining that siblings are embarrassing, siblings aren’t fun to have around, that you need to share all your stuff with them, and etc. But honestly? I live in a fantasy world. Not my friends, whose partner in crime is a one hundred and two year old grandma who’s long deceased. No, not that kind of fantasy world. My own world. With a brother. And a sister. A simply different life.
Dillon would be my twin brother. He would look like a supermodel prospect (unfortunately unlike me) and live in this perfect reality between getting one thousand crush notes a day and being super duper popular. He would have jet black hair, brown eyes, and be perfect in every way. Completely not like me. He would stick up for me, and then we would have lots of pillow fights and meet each other’s friends. Have fun… you know what I mean?