My Sister From Hell

chapter three - the argument

We walked up the narrow foot path to the front door, kicking golden leaves that have feel of the trees as we walk. I reached for my key and unlocked the door. We knew no-one would be in because we only live with our foster parent, Andrew. He worked as a builder and they were building a new leisure centre down the road from the house, which meant he was busier. It was OK now, because we are 14 and we could look after ourselves. We stepped in the doorway and dropped our bags on the floor. Lamia headed for the living room and I went to the kitchen.

"Lamia! Do you want a drink?!" I shouted, so she could her me.

"No!" She shouted back. Her manners are just disgraceful but she didn't care. I grabbed a can of Coca Cola out the fridge, making a cold draft round the kitchen. I opened the can, kicked off my shoes and walked into the living room. 

The soft, beige carpet hugged my feet as I slowly walked over to the dark, brown leather couch, where Lamia sat. She was too deep in thought to realise I was there. I started to sip out of the can, staring at the floor.

"Your eye's went white." She mumbled. I couldn't quite hear.

"What?" I looked up at her, she kept her eyes locked on the floor.

"When the flame went out. You eyes were..." She hesitated. "Were white." She looked up at me now. "Arella, what's happening to us?" I comforted her.

"I don't know, Lamia, I don't know." We sat cuddling each other for a while. Then she spoke.

"What was the Nurse talking about. Tattoos? How do we have tattoos?" I shrugged my shoulders. "Let me see yours, Arella." I pulled the sleeve of my white shirt up to reveal, as Nurse Molly said, a tattoo. I gasped and stared at it for ages. I would've remembered getting something like this. It was a small pair of beautiful angel wings. There was a water spiral that ran through the middle and stars were aligned around the wings. Lamia just stared.

"What about yours?" She smiled slightly and pulled up her black sleeve. She flinched. I just stared with an open mouthed. It was a pair of dark, torn angel wings with fire burning up the middle. Strikes of lighting were round the wings. It was dark and I think she like it. She smiled up at me.

"I love it." She kept looking at her tattoo and smiling. Then anger crossed her face and she stared at me again. She stood up, hovering over me. I stared back at her, my eyes wide.

"Even when we get tattoos from nowhere, yours is still perfect!" She was angry.

"Lamia calm down. Mine isn't perfect. Yours suits you. I thought you liked it?" I smiled slightly to see if that would calm her down.

"That's not the point! You're perfect! Everything you do is just perfect!" She was yelling in my face now. I stood up with frustration and shouted back in her face.

"Lamia! I'm not perfect! You aren't perfect! But I actually have a nice personality!" Oh, shit. Shouldn't have said that to an angry twin. She punched me in the face and I fell to the floor. It was going to get violent. I thought the floor would be a soft landing, but when you just got punched in the face and fall hopelessly then, it's like a brick wall. I slowly opened my eyes and Lamia was leaning over me, her eyes black, just like in chemistry. She grabbed my shirt and pulled me up. She was strong. I mean very strong. She threw me against the far wall and I broke the vase and the shelf it was on. The water from the vase ran down my face but some was left in the broken vase. Automatically, without thinking, I grabbed the broken vase. I winced as it cut deep into my hand. I concentrated on the water and my hand started to guide it. My hand was above my head with the water swimming infront of me. Out the corner of my eye I saw my tattoo glow. I turned to the mirror on the wall, still controlling the water. My emerald green eyes were gone. They were white and shimmered as the sun hit them through the window. Game on, Lamia.