by Kirsten (age 12)
This is an old story I wrote. I don’t know if I am going to continue. I wrote this 7-14-08, and I just found it in my threads at vmkmagic.com. So yeah… oh and it isn’t a true story, and they are fake characters. BEAR WITH ME HERE, I’M ONLY 12.
I remember when I first looked into my brother’s eyes. I could see… me. Except now, Jacob had short hair rather than long hair and thinner eyebrows. He was my twin. But, he was older.
Older by a couple of minutes. The thing with twins is that they know what’s going on in your head. They know the people you like and the people you don’t like. Sometimes, when they have to go to the bathroom, you do too. Sometimes, when they sneeze or cough, you do too. But, you never seem to have anything in common with your twin, except for looks at the most. We stood side by side, not knowing what to expect in life.
I sat down at the kitchen table, hoping to see a plate full of pancakes and bacon. But, there was nothing. Nothing but the bare tabletop. Nobody was even in the kitchen except for me. I slid off the swivel chair and walked toward my twin’s room. His room was a pigsty. “Jacob, where’s Mom? Why isn’t she making my breakfast?” I pulled the covers off the bed, but I only saw a pile of pillows.
First there’s no breakfast. Now Jacob’s gone? I wondered if Dad was even home. I walked into my parents’ room. There was Dad, sleeping. I touched his shoulder lightly. “Jasmine?” a familiar voice called from the bathroom. I walked toward the bathroom. “Mom?” I called back. There she was, with a face full of make-up and a straightener in her hands. “Where’s my breakfast..? and more importantly, where’s Jacob?” I crossed my arms. “What do you mean, ‘Where’s Jacob?'” My mother put down the straightener and faced me. “I mean, he’s not in his room.” I could feel the worry coming to my mother’s face. She shoved past me to Jacob’s room. I followed. I watched as she searched his room. “I told you,” I mumbled. “Put your shoes on, get in the car,” she ordered. “Where are we going?” I asked, slipping on my gray flip flops with sparkled flowers. “To find your brother. Do you know where he would have gone off to?” Mom had that worry wrinkle back on her forehead. I don’t know, I thought. “Oh my gosh!” I yelled too loudly. “Remember when you told him he couldn’t go to that football game last night?” Mom looked at me and I imagined a light bulb coming out of her head. “Oh god. It seriously starts this early?” She ran to the car and quickly shoved the keys into the engine. I followed. “Yeah. It’s 11 right now. The practice started at 10 and the game starts at 1.” I barked out all the research I’d heard from yesterday when Jacob was pouting on why he wanted to go. When we got there, there was an ambulance. I blinked my eyes a couple of times. “Let’s go!” Mom yelped. We raced toward the field. I turned to the ambulance. There was a stretcher being pulled into the truck. I noticed the familiar brown fuzzy hair from the boy in the stretcher. “Oh no” was all that I could get out of my mouth.