My Fantasy World

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?

Then I would have a little sister. Super cute, very loved with all teachers, and look just like Dillon. Her name would be Juliet, and we would have the closest sister bond ever. She would come to me with her homework, and I would help her build a doll house or bead a necklace. We would play lots of things together like Battleship and duet piano. I would always grab her hand and together, we would disappear into this magic pink cloud that enveloped us both.

I always imagine some kind of scene that would happen between us. Like this one.


“Sophie! Sophie!” I wake up to something wet and soggy flying over my face. I half open my eyes, expecting it to be Caline, my dog, but instead it’s Dillon’s grinning face. My eyes shoot open like they were electrocuted, and I sit up with a thump and a  creak. My bed must be vintage.  Or from a flea market. Who knows? Beds have histories, you know. “You are the world’s slowest waker upper,” Dillon tells me with yet another grin. I swear: he grins way too much. “First of all, I don’t even think that’s a phrase, and second of all, quit waking me up like that,” I reply with a sigh. Not really- it’s more angry, but I’m not about to tell you that.

Before Dillon can answer my as-usual-Sophie-is-being-bossy retort, Juliet pounds into the room and turns on her flash light. Her ultimate goal is too be like Oprah Winfrey when she grows up, she’s always “being prepared”, as Oprah Winfrey recommends. Juliet has yet to find out that this is not how Oprah probably meant it all. “Sophie, Dillon, sitting in a tree! K-I-S—” she starts, but I interrupt her with “JULIET! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IT’S PROBABLY ILLEGAL FOR TWINS TO MARRY, AND ANYWAYS, WE’RE TWINS! SIBLINGS!” I forget my policy of no repeating one word in the same sentence. That’s how mad I am. Dillon notices, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s also pretty mad.

Before either of us can tackle our sister with something new, like “Jack, Juliet…” (Jack is the topic of Juliet’s main obsession), our mom calls from downstairs. “Breakfast is ready!” Juliet, Dillon, and I push and shove to be the first one out of my room and downstairs to get the first helpings of chocolate pancakes. Unhealthy but delicious.

After a hurried breakfast, Dillon runs outside, grabs his bike, and sprints to the yaht club for sailing practice. Sometimes my twin has less sense than a bag of nuggets. Juliet and I are going to the beach. I need to work on my tan if I want to impress Ryan, Dillon’s overly cute best friend. Juliet, as usual, takes her time with the sunscreen. I check my hair in the mirror. “Hurry up, sweeeeeetie!” I tell her in a strange accent. “I’m preventing cancer at premature ages,” she states matter of factly as she adds another dose of white glop to her already snow-white arm. I sigh. Siblings can be so annoying, but honestly? I love them. You need someone in your life who you will always love no matter what. Someone related to you, that is.

I wish I could tell Juliet how much I love her, and always will. I want to wrap her in a huge bear hug, despite her drippy, soppy, white sunscreen-arms. But I don’t need to. She knows.

I just grab her hand, and together, we just go outside to a perfect rainbow of happy thoughts.


Whenever I dream of these things, I always wake up checking for my brother or my sister. But neither of them are ever there. Maybe they do exist in a parallel universe, but for right now? They just live in my world. My fantasy world.


2 thoughts on “My Fantasy World

  1. This post really resonated with me, being an only child. I’ve always dreamed of having cool, popular, funny siblings. Whenever my friends complain about their brother or sister, I’m like CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LUCKY YOU ARE?


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