My Diary-Chp 1

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     Today is the supposed day of my birth…or the day that my human body was put on that horrible

planet earth. My twin sister was born on the very same day…the only thing just like me yet so

different that we never saw eye to eye.

    My name is Solstice Melancholy VanDeismonte, while my beloved sister was named Otamee

Kiya VanHelsmonte. Of course most people on earth wondered how we could be twins when we

looked nothing alike. Truthfully, we resembled the goddess that was our true mother instead of the

surrogate we called ‘mother’ on Earth. I was named after the pain and hatred of the goddess Eris

and the evil that overcame Persephone’s body as she became the wife of Hades or something like

that. My hair was long and silky like Persephone, yet it bled black and red thanks to Eris who also

gave me my eerie emerald green eyes and pure marble skin. My sister took after Hera and

Aphrodite who both had beauty beyond all comprehension. She was blessed by grandfather Zeus

with pure yet golden hair a little shorter than my thigh length hair and sharp blue eyes that could

see right through you and into your soul. She was always the favorite…the blessed child from

heaven, while I was the creepy and satanic one. I couldn’t help that evil loomed over me…just as

she couldn’t help but be loved by everyone all the time. Yet, I hated her nonetheless. We were

assigned from birth to keep the earth in balance and to make sure that anyone who was born with

any unnatural power was kept at a certain level so to not alter the balance between good and

evil…or as I liked to put it…me versus my sister. I personally had no need for love, compassion, or

truly any feeling at all besides hatred and logic. She, on the other hand, was always being rocked

back and forth by her emotions. Always taking on too much or doing too much and hurting herself

and me, because we are still connected because the balance is. She spent days and nights in our

childhood home checking after specific people she found oddly attached to. An orphan who needed

a home, or a teenager who needed help before they tried to kill themselves. They could all die and

rot for all I cared, yet I had to care, because my sister did. We were each given an orb, one based

upon us from birth. Hers was covered in a white light, golden brass twisted and coiled in a manner

that matched the way her hair curled when the wind caught hold of it. Mine was a mystical shade of

purple and black and silver dragons constantly circling it yet their heads never saw it each

other…constantly moving…yet going nowhere at all. Was humanity doomed this way as well? Or

was the world doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over until they learned something

when the problem rose again.

    The day is December 19, and this is the story of the end of humanity and the utopia that will rise

from its ashes

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