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Rated: E · Book · Action/Adventure · #1623538
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#678540 added December 3, 2009 at 12:25pm
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Prolouge
I looked up and saw Emily staring out the window. I laid my head back into my arms. We were on a train heading to my aunt’s house. They had a LOT of money. We were in the most luxurious car on the train with unlimited food service. My arms were folded on the table. I was wearing a white dress with a pink floral design. It wasn't too fancy. I didn't really like frills. Next to me was the elegant light pink dress that my aunt and uncle expected me to put on. It was very light, so light infact that it was more white than pink. I dreaded putting it on. I shook my light brown curls and lifted a green eye to take a second glance at me sister.

Emily had the same curls as me. They weren't over the top, not even medium, but more than just waves. She had brown hair as well, but whereas my eyes were bright green, hers were bright blue. We were exactly one year apart. Not only were we born the same day, we were born at the same time. It was strange, like she had to come. She was born early even. They probably have some name for what we are but who knows. She was shy. Rarely spoke to anyone. She always seemed to read people well. She would know things about people. Like if they were nice or not. She never tells me how she knows things, she just says she guessed or something like that.

A Tragedy marks her birth though. Our parents got in a car wreck taking her home from the hospital. I was in the car with her. It was a miracle we even survived. At least that is what they said. I don't remember it, but I wonder if I had my talents then. I can make a clear shield around me and can spread it about five feet in a circle. Maybe that is how we survived. I also can run really fast, which is why I don't play sports. I'm waaay to competitive. The last thing I can do is make a computer with my hands by waving my hands in front of my face. I can make messages that I throw and they go to that person. When the person receives it the message appears in front of them. I never use any one my talents.

People would think I am a freak.

Emily's never mentioned anything strange, so I don't know too much about her really. I know when she fell out of a tree she hovered over the ground, for a second, before she made contact, but then she dropped and ran off. When I asked her about it she denied everything. So maybe I imagined it. She can see vague things from the future in these sort of trances--I know that for sure. We have telepathy ... or ... what ever it's called when you can talk to someone without talking.

"Ma'am, we will be arriving shortly." A train attendant said popping his head in

"Thank you, sir." I said, but he had already left

"Let's get these dresses on and put your old one in the suitcase." I said to Emily who, was staring at me

Mine and Emily's dresses were basically the same, except hers was light green. Less than five minutes later we stumbled off the train with our single suitcase. We set out walking down the distantly familiar road. The mansion was two miles away. I tried to remember our cousins. . .

Anabell was nine. She was blond and very hyper. She had brown eyes and was a little short for her age. From the letter they had sent me when they decided to take us in, she had an imaginary friend named Andrietta. It was strange though. Naturally she would act as if she was real, but she swears that this character is in fact a human being. And coming from the girl who names her porcelain dolls things like Baby, Pinkie, or Lil' girl....how could she come up with that. I guess she heard the name somewhere.

Beth was my age, fifteen. She had strait blond hair and brown and green eyes. She always calls Emily my twin, even though she's fourteen. She is very down to earth. Her older brother Peter was also blond, but with blue eyes. He is tall and shy, but very self confident. They weren't spoiled even though they had a lot of money. They even had a big radio to listen to shows and music. We had a little one to listen to at the orphanage.

We climbed the steps to the white mansion . . .
© Copyright 2009 Marella Lakewood (UN: like_a_lot at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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