Capture

Briar

Most people think I am stuck up and rich. That I use the last remains of the precious natural gas just to power my own car so that I can drive around a race track thousands of times or whatever. That I waste money on purpose. That I wave my power around and tease them just for spite.

They don't think this because they have met me or anything. Not because they have actually seen me waste anything, or have seen me teasing anyone with the small amount of power that I have. In fact, I have never done any of these things before. I'm not mean like that. I grew up poor. Not like any of these people would believe that.

I don't look poor when they broadcast me with my fancy father. I don't look like I grew up with 3 half siblings and very little food or money in a tiny, crumbling house when they show a picture of me feasting with my father in his large dining room in the daily paper. They think I grew up with him. That I grew up in his mansion house and that he loves me unconditionally and gives me everything just because I am his daughter.

Well I've got something to say to them. To those people who believe that. I didn't grow up like that. I'm not stuck up. They are thinking of my brother. Luke. He's all of that. Sometimes more. But I am not. I didn't choose to live with my dad like Luke did when he was twelve. That is probably why most people believe I live with my father. Why would anyone split twins up? We were never truly two peas in a pod, unlike most twins. He was just so different from me, even when we were little. If only these people knew this, if only I could be a regular person in their eyes, just maybe, I wouldn't feel like I have to hide in my house all the time. I could be free. But no one ever listens. It's not like it matters what they think of me. I know that. I just wish it was. What people think of me is easy to change. What I know, what I have been told, cannot be changed. The real reason I stick out, is because I know information, given to me by my father, that would be highly valuable to any person in this county. That's truly why I am being hunted.

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I look at the door that leads to my little brother's room for the twentieth time. What is taking him so long? He should be out by now. My fingers absent mindedly roll the edge of my shirt back and forth. I stare at the old vintage box that used to be called a Television, or T.V. for short. The sides of the television are silver with little holes dotting the lower half. I used to bug my mom all the time when I was little about what it was used for, because it just looks like a fancy box that doesn't open.

"It was used to play videos and show updates on news in far away places."

"As far away as where Roy lives?" I would ask, wide eyed.

"Yep. And way, way farther than that."

"Wow." I paused, "What kind of videos?"

"Videos where people pretended to be someone else, and would make up funny or interesting stories with the other people."

"Like make believe."

"Yeah."

"Why is it in our house if it doesn't work?"

She chuckled. "Always so full of questions aren't you? Because Matty's daddy gave it to me as a gift. He paid a lot of money for it." That's about where our conversation would end.

One thing is true though, she never sold it. Even when we were in our toughest days, starved and cold, she wouldn't let us take the old T.V. to the shop. It just sat in its little corner in the house, day in and day out.

As I stare at it now, I wonder if I will ever love someone as much as my mom had loved Matty's father. If I'm cooped up in this house all the time, how will I ever meet my prince charming?