84 years later
"I hate you Shea, i
hate every fiber of your being!" i screamed at the top of my
lungs.
"Stop exaggerating, Tanya. We were supposed to move so
what's wrong with now?" said Shea.
"I dont't want to move away from here, this place is my
home, OUR home, and always wil be."
"Tanya, I hate this hell-hole! I'm almost as pale as a
damned vampire!" she shuddered at the thought of the
comparison.
"Could you not be so selfish?! Lucca, Italy, is
gorgeous! We were lucky to have this place for the past 80
years."
"We were lucky a vampire didn't mistake me as one of his
own! If my skin starts to feel dry too, i will go
beserk."
Shea was a bit on the pale side, but she made the look work.
She was enchantingly beautiful to every guy who just caught a
glimpse of her mesmerizing features. Her straight long hair
was on the border of black and dark brown. It barely reached
her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. Her chocolate eyes
stood out from her light complexion.
"Dont worry Tanya! You can always start fresh in sunny
California," said Shea optimistically.
"That is not what i m worried about right now!"
"Then what's the problem?"
"You! You are my problem!"
"Hey! what's going on in here?! Mom and i can hear
you guys from the garden!" said my other sister, Amber, as she
burst into the room. Her piercing blue eyes darted between
Shea nd me; her medium brown hair was the same length as Shea's
but wavier. She didn't have a single blemish, like a
porcelain doll. Shea had a few cute freckles, though.
Amber was the more mature one of the three of us, of the
triplets. We were born in the same year, just a few days
apart; which isn't rare for a family of witches.
"Just leave me alone!" I demanded.
I ran away to my private little club house i had pronounced as my
sanctuary since i was young. It would be really hard to say
goodbye to it and my best friend, Marcus. As i walked inside
i saw him sitting on the little stoll gazing out the window.
"Hey," i said softly, touching his shoulder.
"Oh! Hey Tanya, I didn't see you standing there.
Wait, what's the matter?"
I walked up to him, he was standing now. His charcoal black
mane swooped over his worried hazel eyes. He brought me in
for a hug, which he knew i loved. I breathed in his familiar
scent for the last time. Marcus wasn't really Italian
either. He moved here with his family from Florida because of
his mom's job as a writer. Now it was my turn to
move. I was so relieved that i had told him our secret that
we were witches. i had one person i could confide in.
Now i'm losing him.
84 years later "I hate you Shea, i hate every fiber of your
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Feb 20, 2012 2:40pm
