Release The Dark Within: My Twisted Love Story (boyxboy) (boyxgirl)

Chapter 1: Waking up Stasi

"You Vanny, you." I admitted with a heavy sigh as he made his way to the door. If mom wasn't such a raging strict ass bitch, then I wouldn't have to get up early to drink my coffee, nectar of the Gods as we called it.

“Of course you do Stasi. Who doesn’t love me? I’m awesome.” He responded with a smirk that I wanted to smack off of his face. He looked good as always, wearing his dark skinny jeans and tight Avenged Sevenfold shirt that made him look like a badass rocker. His hair was straightened and he was wearing more eyeliner than I did. But it looked good on him, as usual.

Dare I say he looked sexy? No. I pushed the thought aside abstinently.

"Hey, it's not like you didn't take a freaking hour to beautify yourself as well this morning Mr. Perfect." I called out to him just before he closed the door.

"Whatever buttercup, just get your ass downstairs before mom gets up." He replied shouting back through the door.

I grumbled and headed for the closet, picking out a pair of skinny jeans and tight deep red top. I didn't like to flaunt my curves, but every time I wore something frumpy and 'old lady like' as my mom and Van insisted on calling it, I caught hell for it. Not only that, but I was expected to dress a certain way.

I was popular, as was Van, but we were far from the king and queen of the school. We just had a strange crowd of followers who expected us to look and act a certain way. Although our mom would have been happier if we had turned out differently, more normal and picture perfect, you could say that she accepted our individuality and encouraged us to dress to reel in followers.

She was a believer in power and popularity and no matter how we came by it, she vehemently encouraged us to continue it. Not that she agreed with our lifestyle choices because she had made it clear that she didn't. She just didn't put up too much of a fuss, considering that she only saw the shell, not the real me, the one I buried.

Not the one I buried deep inside and was hidden from everyone, including my friends and family, even Van. If he knew about the real me, then he would surely hate me just as much as I was afraid that everyone else would.

Only his hate would hurt me more than anyone else’s, except for perhaps one other person, and that person was him.

I made my way downstairs about a half an hour later, a good thirty minutes before she was scheduled to wake up. She didn't wake up on school days until 7 am, meaning Van woke me up promptly at 6 am, so we had time to sneak in our morning coffee and spend a few minutes alone together talking openly like we weren’t able to do in front of mom.

Our mom thought that caffeine was the devil and refused to let us drink anything caffeinated, among other crazy strict rules she had like a 10 pm curfew, no grades below an A and no relationships or dating before age 18. Yeah, she was really freaking adamant about her stupid rules, and got super pissed when we broke them. She imposed harsh punishments on us and Crispin our older brother when he was home, but thank god at least he had made it out alive.

It gave us a certain amount of hope. Cris was three years older than Van and almost four years older than me, making him 21. He understood how to play mom's games and used her highly critical and disapproving demeanor to his advantage. Crispin was the lucky one to have lived through his teen years unscathed and with very little drama. I wish I could say the same for myself.