i really hope you will like my story—even though its my first T_T
vote!comment!like/tweet!(: oh, and note: if intereseted in a cover, GO TO brattany07's SHOP FOR BOOK COVERS! its da best(:
now read. i demand :D?
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Eight minutes left.
“Okay. The final touch.” Jessica couldn’t help but smile as she draped an emerald green necklace around my neck, matching my eyes. “You look perfect.”
As much as I pushed my twin sister away, she always came around to help me. I could never seem to pay back what she helped me with, and whenever I frantically mentioned it, she would only roll her eyes and slap my arm playfully, saying something about being sisters. Psh, like that matters.
Four minutes left.
Turning around, I spotted the accessory that I was dying to give to Jessica. I quickly stepped over her foot, cautious that I don’t ruin her freshly painted hot pink toes, over to my jewelry box.
“Ohh Jesssiccaaa!” I called out, raising the hairpin up high. “I know the thing just right for you!”
She rushed over to me, and I gave her the sparkly, pink duct tape bow. I had made it specially myself, and I have to admit I was a bit proud of it. She had always treasured the things I made her from Arts (the elective I have besides Spanish and Drama.)
After the million thank yous and such, we finally headed out.
We were ready for our last party before we were ready to move next month.
All dolled up, we looked anything but identical. Our hair was tied differently, mine down and wavy, hers up in a messy bun. I wore a long, slim, no-strap black dress with matching high-heels. Practically opposite, Jessica’s was white. We both wore the same bracelet however—a real diamond one with our names imprinted on it. We both saw it in an antique store. Surprisingly, the small shop had only our names. It was as if the two bracelets were made for us. Even better, we had saved the old, frail, granny from going bankrupt.
The final dance in a popular guy’s house, in the moist Georgia, was absolutely fabulous.
As our chauffeur (not really a chauffeur, more like our dad) drove up to the entrance, I could already hear music. I was still shocked that Dad, DAD, would even let us go to this party.
We lept out of the car, ecstatic and morose about out last day here. On coincidence, we were going to leave tomorrow morning. So, this party will be our last memory.
We went into the door where everything was happening. The lights, the music, the drunken people that snuck in drugs, the bathroom smelling terribly like sex, this was the place.
Jessica strolled over to a random cute guy and asked him if they could dance. He looked a bit surprised, but said yes anyways. Good ole’ Jessica.
Meanwhile, I was hanging around some buff senior. He bumped into me by accident, and asked me if I wanted some vodka. I raised my eyebrow, and took it. I was a drug virgin. I’m only 16.
I gave him the money he suggested and he slipped me a bottle on liquid that looked like water. Running outside, I sat on the benches along with some other freshman and drank it, leaving a third of the drink. Boy… I don’t feel so well. The booze burned my throat, but I couldn’t stop. I wanted the satisfaction of being drunk. I needed this memory.
