Unplugged (INCOMPLETE)

Beginning

/Vada/

My mother used to say that until you learn to love yourself, no one else can possibly love you. That others would notice the little insecurities and the lack of confidence and of course, the self loathe. She would sit me down in front of the mirror and brush my hair and point out all of the 'beautiful' features about me. She would tell me that I had the cutest little nose and the loveliest smile. And that I was so lucky to have two different coloured eyes- one that belonged to her, and one that belonged to Dad. And she would say, "Baby, you look like a rock chick, diva queen, and you don't even have to try."

All the while, I would sit there and let her play with my hair and let her tell me all these wonderful things, but all I could ever think about was how she didn't love me. Not really.

Because if I couldn't find it in me to love myself, then how could she?

I always pushed myself to believe that she was just trying to help, that she wanted to boost my confidence, that she wanted to see me shine in all my colours; not just black and white. But I knew just as good as she did that she was dragging me down.

"You have to learn to love yourself because no one else will do it for you".

Ironically, it was someone else who helped me to unlearn that saying, to erase it from my skin and forget about my mother's skewed perception of love.

It took me sixteen years to learn that people don't fall in love with each other despite their flaws. They fall in love with everything that encompasses their loved one, including the imperfections.

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2/05/15

11.53pm

Calling sexysullivan97...

I stared at my reflection in the tiny box in the right hand corner of the screen, fruitlessly attempting to tame my mad curls which were flying in every way humanely possible. Really, it was just a distraction from the loud dial tone that seemed to beep in time with my heart. How long did it take to answer an organised Skype call for Christ's sake?

My eyes scanned the rest of the screen, taking in his ridiculous username. I'd have fun mocking him over that. That is if we were still close enough to mock eachother.

I heard a thump from above me and the ceiling shook as someone from upstairs got out of bed to go to the bathroom. I'd be dead if someone caught me on the laptop at this hour of the night. The Jenkins didn't allow their own kids to use any technology after seven in the evening, and I wasn't given any special treatment. Having my phone locked up every night was torture. It wasn't really my place to complain though; they did agree to take me in after all, and on such short notice.

My thoughts were cut short by a face suddenly popping up on the screen, already giddy with excitement as he took in my appearance after so long.

"SIS! WASSUP?"

"Oh my god, Jake! Shut up! Do you wanna get me killed?!"

"Ooh sorry sorry...hey what's up?" he whispered, leaning in so close to the camera that all I could see was his nostrils.

I rolled my eyes, but relief was already soaring through my veins, leaving me feeling light as a feather. After five years apart from my twin brother, he hadn't changed much at all. The loudness, giddiness, sarcasm and nonexistent self control were still bubbling around inside him. The only thing notably different about him was his hair. When we were eleven, it had almost been shoulder length and shinier than mine. Now it was so short, he couldn't even run his fingers through it.