by Lela Grayce
Returning to our room reveals DeeDee still asleep, but she has somehow reversed her position. Her head is now at the foot of the bed with her feet resting on her pillow. I am continually amazed at the hidden acrobatic skills she portrays while unconscious. It is the main reason why we no longer share a bed and never will again. I have been kicked, punched, and head-butted too many times to make that mistake again.
Approaching her bed, I take mental note of where all her limbs are before cautiously prodding her.
“DeeDee, it’s time to wake up.” She doesn’t so much as twitch. Sighing, I try again. “Seriously, Dee, it’s time to wake up,” I say louder, then slap her exposed thigh.
A sound escapes my sister, a screech not of this world. I retreat quickly, just barely missing her flying fist, followed closely by her leg.
“DeeDee? You awake?” I ask tentatively. A grunt is my answer. “It’s nearly ten. You need to get up and get going.”
She mumbles incoherently, throwing an arm over her eyes to block out the morning sun streaming through the windows of our bedroom.
“December Areion, it’s time to get up,” I say loudly, making my way toward the door.
“It’s Saturday,” DeeDee moans from her position on her bed.
“I know, but which Saturday is it?” I ask sweetly.
“You know I hate it when you ask me questions so early in the morning. You know how I feel about being forced to use my brain immediately after I wake up,” she grumps.
“It’s our birthday, Dee,” I reply, a smirk twisting my lips as I watch her still, then remove her arm and sit up.
Turning to face me, her blue eyes seem extra luminescent in the morning sun. Her dark hair tousled from sleep contrasts with her porcelain skin, making her eyes appear even brighter. Observing her then was like looking at myself in a mirror. We are identical, but we have some freakish differences that aren’t natural. Where DeeDee’s hair is blue-black, my hair is blonde, and her eyes are blue while mine are a light brown, bordering on gold. These differences in appearance are strange. Freakishly unique.
“We’re eighteen now,” DeeDee states into the silence, a slow smile creeping across her face.
“Yep,” I agree, a smile curving my lips to mirror hers.
“Awesome!” she says, climbing off her bed and making her way toward her messy closet, leaving her bed a jumbled mess. “I’ll shower, then meet you downstairs,” she calls from the black depths.
Calling my understanding back, I head down the stairs and venture into the rest of the house.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lela Grayce lives in rural Wyoming in a small college town. She works for a non-profit organization and loves what she does for the company. She is married to her best friend and hero. By day she is a working mom and wife but by night she is lost in dreams, moonlight, and delusions that she is, in fact, Batman.
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