The air was cool, and the frost could be seen on the everywhere but below her. She stood on the balcony that overlooked the gorge. It was how and where her twin sister died, the day her father refused to help. Five years ago to this very night they sat in their bedroom talking of white dresses, and frills and of princes and of marriage. Lady, her twin, had found the perfect suitor, and planned on running away, away from her fathers hold on her future, her life, from her very family. ‘Come with me?’ she had said and it was in this moment that she was considering following her sisters fate. Her father had shown no love or compassion the moment Lady stepped off the balcony railings, he had not cried as she had, and neither had her mother. Too high on opium as always, and was away in a land that others dreamed of. Memories for her were not the greatest of things.
Her tears spoke of plenty of hurt, a stab of pain ran through her chest, and pain that she was soon to end. Her feet found a place on the balcony railings, her eyes drifted down to the gorge below her. She hadn’t heard her sister hit the floor, not really, only a small thud, one that sounded like a distant footstep. If only the rain fell as it had those five years ago, ready to cry with her. But of course the heavens didn’t give way. Nobody cared for her, never had, all except Lady. “Lady.” She whispered the name over and over. She turned cautiously on the thin metal bar, and just as easily left her perch. Her body fell effortlessly down below as she overtook her previously shed tears, her white nightgown fluttered. It was then she saw a younger version of herself, reaching over the railings, shouting, screaming…praying. She smiled. Her sisters last words were for her, were
of her. Her sisters call echoed in her mind, “Victoria! I love you, sister. VICTORIA!” She had never forgotten her sister, but her face had slowly faded away with time, but the sound of her voice and her smile would stay with her always. She closed her eyes.
She kept on falling, or so she thought. She felt hot in that moment, wrapped in a blanket. She opened her eyes, to be met by a pair of the most beautiful blue. She blinked trying to make out if this was real. Some one had caught her, and from such a height. He showed no sign of discomfort.
“Who are you?” She asked, wiping the tears away from her cheek, when he did not answer, she answered for him, “My hero!” Her hair fell over her shoulders, showing him the nape of her neck. Before she had time to scream she felt his teeth dig into her flesh, her blood and her life force being drained from her very soul. She slipped away only to come back moments after. She was alive, and well. Her fingers traced over her shoulder looking for the wound, her fingers traced the imprint he had left. Her blood was tattooed around his lips, which he soon licked clean. She looked up confused, why was she still here. He gave her a smile baring his white vampire like fangs.
One word escaped from his lips, “William.”



“Yes, yes, yes!” I screamed running down the stairs. I met my little sister on the way. I picked her up and smothered her in kisses. So unlike me. I placed her down and carried on to the kitchen where I found Janet and John, their my folks, my parents, that’s what the papers say anyway. They adopted me when I was five, or more like found me on the streets of Cairo, I’ll tell you about it some time, promise. Janet spun around as I embraced her, she jumped slightly at the touch, “Don’t worry,” I said, “Only me.” Janet’s blind you see. Has been since my little sister Guenevere was six, four years ago from now. I’m so glad the two of us aren’t related by blood, we’re so different. And besides when she does something embarrassing I can just say “I’m adopted!” and it’s true so no harm done.
“Is everything alright with you Ororo?” John asked as he laughed at my actions, I smiled at him, releasing Jane from my tiger like grip-Janet doesn’t like to be called Jane but what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her, right?
“Fine, I just finished the first chapter of my book.” I squealed, and for me this was on hell of an achievement, I’d been writing, okay trying to write a book for a few months now-five years, cough, cough, and to top that off I’ve had writers block nearly all my life. Short stories you have to write in school are fine but when I comes to the big stuff, I just can’t do it, I run out of ideas before I’ve even started, other wise nothing. But now I think that I can actually do it, I can finish this one, I’m so into it. I have every chapter mapped out in my mind. Tonight I’m celebrating, definitely. Grab some of the guys and just get pissed, or just down a few drinks until I loose my marbles, which is impossible because I’ve already lost them. Trust me!

…*…

Just for you who are wondering, my name is Ororo Munroe, yes I know it’s strange, but at least it’s not something like Trevor Walcott. Besides I like it, and hardly anyone likes there surname. I’m twenty-six years old and I’m dark skinned, but it’s not truly dark, it’s more Halle Berry or the colour of mocha or even cinnamon. But I prefer Halle Berry. But I love me. I don’t care if I’m lighter skinned than most black people, or if I’m darker than some white people, I’m me all the same. I’m blabbering on a bit, aren’t I? My hair is white, I will never dye it not for the world. It tumbles down my back, I can almost sit on it, and that’s quite long trust me, I’m 5ft 8inches, and in some cases I’m still growing.
You know people tell you never to judge a book by it’s cover, well I’d listen to them. I don’t mean to sound like a bitch or a pop princess or anything but I was the centre of all those heart throbs, I had every boy after me in school, but I’m not all that great, I’m a free sprit I do what I want when I want an I don’t care about consequences. I drink a lot, I swear like hell, and I complain, no seriously when I start to complain about something I don’t stop, I can last for hours, and I enjoy it. I enjoy everything in my life.
Then you have my family, there part of me too, thy play a big role in my life, however these people are not the basic package. Lets start with the youngest, Guenevere, she’s lovely, she’s also a really big annoyance in my life, she’s a lot of fun to be with, she’s my critic, she reads more books than Einstein created formulas, at the age of ten too. She reads everything I write and gives me a mark out of ten, it’s really helpful.
J ‘n’ J aka Janet and John are cool too, they trust me and Guenevere a hole lot, probably more than the average parent, but who’s complaining-not me that’s for sure. Janet’s the oldest in the family, Johns only months younger, though he acts like a five year old. They’ve been together since high school and they have never had a full on argument, yeah they fight but it’s usually about what bread to buy, or how much milk is needed, nothing to serious, their perfect. I wish I had that. I mean I have a boy friend I just haven’t seen him in months, and we’re kinda the on and off type, so perfection is miles away from us. He’s amazing though, he’s the man that got me to write in the first place, everything I write has been inspired by anything and everything I’ve experienced with him, and something like that has never happened to me before.
See I’m a big softy really. Okay only when I comes to Warren I am.
So this is me, there’s a bit more but that’s all your getting from me, maybe you’ll even find out something new about me later on, but hopefully I wont change or add too much to my self.
…*…


“Can I read it?” Guenevere asked me, pulling on my trousers, she usually hits me, really hard. I nod and pull out a crimpled piece of paper from my back pocket. I hand it too her, and I watch her eyes as they skim over the page. Her facial expression changes. I’m hoping up and down my fingers crossed. She looks up and hands it back to me, her face was blank telling me nothing. Yeah, I’m gunna take back what I said about her being helpful.
“Well?” I said, looking through the tiny slits I made with my eyes. The evils as we both call it. She returns the look just as equally, and it’s almost as if Janet could see us at that moment, “Girls!” She said. We don’t stop though we just mutter apologies so she thinks we’ve stopped, but she knows better, always has done, so she laughs at us.
“I give it,” She put a finger to the dent in her chin, to make it look like she’s thinking, she smiles, “a nine, maybe nine and a half if your nice to me.” I smile from ear to ear. She had never given me a nine before, wow. “Oh no!” She screams as she runs out of the kitchen, I run after her and tickle her helpless. She ahs a funny little laugh, it’s like a purring cat and a strangled dog, almost exactly like her signing.
The phone rang at that moment, “I got it!” I said as I let go of Guenevere. I walk over to the phone table and smile when I see who’s calling. I pick up the receiver and press it to my ear.
“Hi…”





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