Author’s note: Greetings all! My focus this chapter will be geared more towards Val than any of them. I’ll get more Uriah time in later. Thanks! (Hoping to only have about 2-4 more chapters and then an heir vote! )
Uriah’s Point of View
You know something that I just can’t stand? Comparison. Oh how I HATE to be compared to my younger brother and his ways. Just because I shared a womb with the kid, doesn’t mean we are anything alike. You know what else I hate? Being sheltered. My grandpa always treats me different than the rest of them because I’m a girl. He tells me that’s not true, but I know it is. I know how much he hates to think of me getting hurt or, dare I say it, running off like his daughter once did. Truth is no one can keep me still. I don’t care if my parents, grandpa and siblings all tied me down… I’m never going to be kept back. I like freedom and expressing myself doing whatever I please! I don’t have very many goals in life and heck if I knew what I was doing tomorrow… but my point is that I’m my own person.
I’m me and there is no one who can change that; no one who can make me think differently.
I never plan things too far ahead. Okay, I don’t plan ahead at all. Anything I do and everywhere I go… they’re all spur of the moment. That’s how I see living my life; just trying things on a whim. Where is the fun in planning out your whole future? To strap yourself down to a college or take over the family business? It’s boring and predictable! You only have one life, why waste it doing… nothing?
To me, life should be about following your feet. Yeah, I know that sounds dumb… but it’s what I believe in gosh dang it! If you just keep walking, if you just keep pressing on, you’re bound to wind up somewhere. Who cares where or when, just going is part of the excitement.
I mean, obviously my brothers think I’m crazy. And I’m talking about my big brothers, not my strange twin Val. Sure when we were little babies we had a thing of following one another, but people get older, they change. Well, most of them anyways. Val is still pretty… awkward.
But like I said before, I’m completely sheltered by my grandpa. I love the man; he’s like my dad, but… I just wish he’d let me do things! He just always seems to be blocking my path and dragging me back.
Grandpa sighed, “Uriah what are you doing out here? Didn’t I just tell you to go inside and do your homework? I need to get work and you’re outside daydreaming again. You need to get your little head out of the clouds sometimes and listen to what I’ve said!”
“Grandpa… I was-“
He held up his hand, “No, I don’t want to hear it. Just get inside. NOW!” he rubbed his temples, “I’ll be calling one of your brothers later; I better not find out you’re out in a field somewhere!”
Ugh, I’m going to be kept prisoner here forever!
I stomped into my room and slammed the door – hard.
Gosh, would you look at this room?! It’s so pink and girly! I’m not like this at all. I hate unicorns and fluffy bunnies. I’m not a peach perfect little princess and for the love of god… why does everything have to be so bright? I’ve tried telling grandpa the things I enjoy and the things I like to do… but he’s already painted this image of me in his head. I bet if I let him, he’d even put me in frilly dresses and curl my hair! Why does everyone think I’m so… pathetic?!
I like squishing my feet in the mud and picking at scabs on my arms!
Sometimes, I get so mad, I could just SCREAM! I don’t like feeling like a captive monkey! There just has to be more to life than being some pampered little school girl. I mean, my parents never even lived a stupid life like this. My brothers told me they were always off doing something amazing – even my auntie and uncle as well! I heard that they are top secret agents! How cool their lives must have been…
“One day, I’m going to change all of this.”
Val’s Point of View
I find it very… peculiar how the world around us works. Well, the world meaning human beings. People… and their ways of living, their emotions, and how they express them. How could one just sit back and ignore the fascination around them? It’s the strange, different ways that set people off that just make me all the more interested. What is it that gets one angry, upset, happy? Why is it that something that makes one angry, could make another filled with joy?
I stared at my little toy, placing a gentle but firm grip on the back of his head. This doll, in a form or another, could represent… a baby. How is it that babies are even made? How do they even get here? Why are they so small, fragile and weak? So helpless they depend on the care of another…
I questioned my doll, “If only you could tell me.”
I know there are millions of questions in the world to ask, but my real goal is to have them answered. Of course you can’t expect everyone to know everything… so that’s where you figure them out yourself.
To me, writing down what I see each and every day is a way to keep track of my unanswered questions. That way, when I do finally figure it out, I can cross it out and move onto something else.
Lately my observations have been of my brothers. The key to observing is to never speak. If you use your words to interrupt something, then you’ll never know the outcome.
I gently snuck into their room. As per usual, they were in a heated argument. You see, it’s not that my brothers hate each other, because they don’t, it’s just… Patrick doesn’t understand why Tag always has to be drinking some kind of booze – as they would put it. Patrick can’t stand to see Tag wasted and puking his guts up.
What I have observed from this constant fighting, is that Tag somehow put his anger behind that gross drink. He’s never been the one to just share his feelings, but anyone with a brain can tell he’s hurting. I’d have to chalk it up to the fact that we never got to live a life with our real parents and only our grandfather. Plus I believe there is something about our parents that Tag nor Patrick never told us…
“You’re a freaking MORON!” Patrick boomed, “Stop drinking! What the heck is wrong with you?!”
Tag only laughed at Patrick’s remark. He exchanged no words.
He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a giant gulp.
Patrick gripped his hair, “Why do you do this to yourself?! It’s like every time grandpa leaves, you think it’s okay to start drinking. What the heck does that say to Riah and Val!?”
Tag lowered the bottle to his side. He stared at Patrick for a moment and then opened his mouth to speak.
“What the heck do they care? Uriah’s always lost somewhere and Val is some freaking mute. The kid doesn’t even understand what’s going on around him.”
Ah Tag, maybe it’s only what I want everyone to think.
Patrick yelled, “That’s the most stupidest excuse I ever heard! Why don’t you admit you’re trying to kill yourself with that stuff because you’re still angry at everything? Tag, for the love of god, just let it go, man! Stop beating yourself up every day about what happened SIX years ago!” he sighed loudly, “I love you, but you need some serious help.”
Tag laughed, taking another sip, “What I need is my guitar back…”
For a moment it was like watching two enemies on a battlefield. My brothers were face-to-face; the room filled with so much tension… it was simply mind blowing!
Then of course, Tag had to glance over and notice my presence.
He shook his head, “Oh look, little creeper is back in our room again. Sorry kid, booze are for the big people!”
Patrick scoffed, “Shut the heck up!” he marched over to Tag and snatched the bottle from his hand, “You’re a freaking MEAN drunk! Why don’t you go do yourself a favor and go fall in a hole somewhere! I can’t believe you’d actually talk to our little brother like that.”
“Why not? Oh, cause he’s so special? Right?” He chuckled, nearly falling over.
Hm, what is it in that drink that changes a person’s personality?
I inched my way further into their room, when Patrick stopped me.
“Val, you don’t need to be in here right now. Something is wrong with our idiot brother and… uh… he needs to rest. You just go play with your toys and color, okay? I’ll be downstairs later to make you guys something to eat.”
I have to say, what I love more than observing people… is the way that they treat me. It’s interesting how my lack of speaking makes them think I’m, well, not all here…
Of course I could never limit myself to just my family. I’ve seen it all with them basically. So I decided to allow grandpa to ‘sign me up’ for an ‘after school program’. If he thinks I’m sitting in a small room with a bunch of children, then he won’t ever have to go out and look for me. It’s funny; I hear some of the things Uriah says to herself… if she wanted to get out of the house so badly, all she had to do was allow grandpa to believe she was okay.
But I had no time to worry about what my twin sister was doing. There were things I wanted to try. Like, what would happen if I drove my small bike very slowly in the middle of the street? Would someone get SO impatient and their anger rise to boiling levels, that they’d… run me down? How tolerate can people actually be?
The cars horns blared behind me and people screamed out of their windows.
I only smiled brightly to myself. I guess one isn’t that crazy, but it sure is funny to watch them bubble over.
As I rode my bike throughout the streets of Hiddensprings, a small house caught my eye. The atmosphere around it was quiet and gentle. I didn’t detect any movements coming from within but I was curious to see if someone actually did live there.
What would someone do if a small, strange child just appeared inside their home? Now that’s something I’d love to test…
I turned the knob without hesitation and just… walked indoors. I’m not one who is afraid of a challenge. I’ll do anything and everything if in the end I get to see something I never did before.
I glanced around the house. It was kind of dark and there wasn’t that much clutter like in my home. A strange statue stood at my feet. It had no arms and was missing half of its body. Wow, what would life be like only being half of a human? How would you even survive?
Suddenly, as I was standing there, an elderly woman came out of the living room. I could tell she must have things wrong with her body because she carried around a walking stick.
“Andrew?” she called out, “Is that you my dear?”
I stood there in silence. I didn’t want to reply back to her just yet.
She closed her eyes and sighed, “Oh Andrew. I was wondering when you would come back inside. You’ve had your dear old mother worried sick.”
I narrowed my eyes slightly. Well, now this is different…
She slowly hobbled over to me. Even at only a mere inch away from my face, she still couldn’t tell that I was obviously not her son. Judging by her age, any kids she would have would probably be as old as my father.
She grasped my cheek. I tried hard not to let out a squeal of pain, but gosh that HURT!
“OUCH!” I screeched.
She giggled slightly, “I’m sorry, but you know I just love your chubby little cheeks Andrew. You know, you get your adorable little looks from your father.”
I groaned, “Yeah, you told me that lots of times before… uh, mom.”
Might as well take this wherever I can. Right?
And well, that’s exactly what I did. For weeks, every day after school, I would come to this woman’s house to visit with her. I would mentally mark down all of our conversations and then physically write them down later on paper. This woman was completely fascinating… She had no idea that I wasn’t her son but would still continually talk to me, make me lunch and love on me. I have no idea what she saw in me that resembled her son so much; part of me believes I don’t look anything like him.
She poked the fire, “You know, I remember when your father used to fix the fire for us. We’d all sit around roasting marshmallows and he’d tell us one of his wacky, made up tales.” She chuckled, “It’s funny, I remember how much your brother hated them – he was always a different one.”
She sighed. It was strained and I could hear the pain behind it. Ah, the topic of her – I’m assuming late – husband makes her unhappy.
“Sometimes, this life just feels so unreal Andrew. Sometimes… I just can’t believe your father is not in our lives anymore.” She closed her eyes, a tear slipped out and down her cheek. She reopened her eyes and then glanced over at me, “Oh, but here I am getting all sad again. I’m sorry sweet heart…”
I only gave her a glance of reassurance.
She sat down on the couch across from me and patted the section next to her.
“Come over here; sit next to your momma.” She smiled.
Of course I wasn’t just going to ignore the woman. So I got up out of my chair and walked over and sat next to her. She smiled at me once more and then just went on to talk about her day. As she talked, my thoughts started to drift. I mean, I’ve been coming here for weeks… and yet not once have I seen anyone stop by to see her – this woman who I never even learned the name of. She’s all alone in this world with no one to love, so the first person to come into her life… she just imagines as her once youngest child. Where is this boy anyways? If she loves Andrew so much, how come he never visits his mom?
About a week later I found myself in this woman’s house once more. I had just gotten there and she told me to take a seat because she had a grilled cheese for my lunch.
“Oh!” She exclaimed, “Where is my brain today? I almost forgot to cut the crust off the bread. Hold on a minute Andrew, I’ll be right back with your food.”
I only nodded my head. Hey, who am I to turn down free food?
A moment after I agreed to wait for my food, a man came charging into the house.
“Mom, listen… I kind of need some money and I was-“ he stared at her and then at me, “What the heck is going on here??”
The woman dropped the plate because her son’s obnoxious, random screaming session had frightened her.
“My god Michael, what have a told you about doing that to me? You can’t just come barging in my house yelling like a maniac!” she shook her head, “And if you must know, I’m feeding your baby brother.”
I glanced over my seat at Mike, his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open.
“Mom… I think you’re confused.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, “I am not confused! I know my own son when I see him.” she growled, “And why are you late home anyways?! Andrew has been here on time every day after school for weeks. Where have YOU been Mikey?”
Michael shook his head and then gripped me up out of my seat.
“What the heck is wrong with you kid!? Who ARE YOU?! How can you just come into some freaking random house and just mooch off of my mother?”
I only stared at him. I’m not the moocher here… I was more interested in learning about the lady’s story. I could care less if she fed me.
“What are you DEAF?!” he shoved at me, “Why are you pretending to be my dead little brother? Do you have freaking mental issues kid???”
Mike’s mother ran over to him, swinging her cane wildly in his face.
“Don’t you DARE talk to your little brother like that! I’ve told you a hundred times to stop pushing him around Michael!” she screamed, nearly hitting him.
“MOM!” he shouted, “That kid is not Andrew! He doesn’t even look anything like him! He’s just some little freak.”
His mother screeched louder, “Stop saying that!! I’m so sick and tired of your jealousy over Andrew!”
Mike shook his head, “But mom… Andrew died in that lake over 15 years ago. You know this already mom. You’re really scaring me.”
His mother backed away slowly. She stared at me frightened and then hobbled off into the kitchen, not even bothering to pick up the broken plate and grilled cheese sandwich.
After watching his mother walk away in a daze, he turned back to face me once more.
“JUST… GET OUT!” he screamed, clenching his fist, “Freaking leave and don’t come back!”
I didn’t hesitate at the man’s scowling words. I only nodded my head at him and left out the front of that house. As I made the biking trip back to my home, my mind was lost in thought. It’s just… simply fascinating how a traumatic event in your life can mess you up so much mentally. I see it in my brother and I see it in this woman. Sure, their mental states have different severity levels, but… nonetheless; they’re both suffering from losing someone close.
It’s amazing how far lost her mind was, that she’d just… imagine I was her dead son. And to top it off, it didn’t make it any better that her husband was dead and her eldest was a lazy mooch…
Tag’s Point of View
You know what I hate? Pretty much everything at times. Like for example, how my brother tries to act like my freaking mother. OH no wait, I never got to experience having a mom! How the heck would I know what that’s like? Cause you know what? Screw Patrick! I can freaking drink as much as I want. I don’t care if he somehow magically found a way to drown out everything that happened, I didn’t! It’s not like grandpa makes it any better…
I took a step forward. My vision was blurry and my balance was completely off.
“Oh god…” I muttered, “I don’t feel so good…”
I tripped over pretty much nothing. My palms stung from scraping against the dried, dead grass. I tried bringing myself up, but that didn’t do me any good. My stomach had another thing in mind…
I threw up multiple times. Even when I thought I was pretty much done, my body somehow found a way to throw up just a little bit more.
“Oh god, make it stop!” I cried out, coughing slightly.
I did eventually manage to bring myself to my feet. I wasn’t completely wasted anymore either. All that throwing up really helped me to come-to, and when I did… I noticed a girl sitting on her car, near a pond.
“What in the world?” I mumbled, squinting over at the girl.
She looked upset and lost in thought. Why not bother her?
Okay, so I may have not have been as drunk as I was… but I was still pretty intoxicated from all that booze I drank. I honestly lost count to how many I chugged down in the past 24 hours…
I stumbled over to the girl, still squinting at her even though I was only a foot or two away.
“Eh, what’s wrong with you?” I semi-yelled, “Why are you just sitting in the dark by a creepy pond?”
She didn’t even bother to look over at me.
“Go away. I’m not in the mood to talk to drunken morons.”
I scoffed, “And who says I’m drunk?”
She scoffed, “Says the beer bottle that went flying out of your hands when you tripped over yourself. Oh and the fact that you puked your guts up and you smell disgusting. Seriously, go away.”
“Yeah? What’s it to you anyways? I was just trying to see if you were alright all alone out here, but you know, MY BAD!” I growled.
She lifted her head, “Are you freaking serious? Do I honestly look like I need the help of some 14 year old, wasted kid? What could you honestly do for me?”
I held up both my hands, “I’ll have you know I’m this many!”
She rolled her eyes, “That’s the number ten.”
Yeah, well… not brightest moment I’ll admit.
I lowered my eyes, “I was trying to make the number 15 but I forgot I didn’t actually have that many fingers. Don’t judge me; I have a lot on my mind…”
She sighed, “Honestly, I don’t care. I just came out here to get some peace and quiet. Now if you don’t mind, could you please just… leave?”
I chuckled, “Nah, I think I’ll stick around. I kind of like this place.” I stated, walking over to the pond. I picked up a small stone and chucked it into the water, “What’s your name anyways? I’m Tag.”
“You really don’t get it do you??” she scoffed, hopping off her car, “I just want to be left alone for once!”
“God, I was just asking your name. You don’t have to bite my head off…”
“You know, it’s idiots like you that give guys a bad name. You’re so pig-headed and persistent. And what kind of name is Tag anyways?”
I laughed, “Uh, my name? You know… the one my parents gave to me? You’re really not the sharpest one are you?”
She shouted, storming off “Oh you know what? Screw this! I’m so not sticking around to listen to you criticize me. Good bye drunken moron!”
I retorted, laughing, “It’s Tag, sweet cheeks! But you know… whatever works.”
After she left, I sort of just stuck around for a bit longer. I was pissed off at myself for acting like an ahole. But honestly she shouldn’t take it to heart; it has nothing to do with her. I have issues; heck if I care anyone knows it.
I scoffed, “I’m used to people hating me anyways. I didn’t give myself these freaking scars…”
Thanks for reading guys! Sorry this took so long to get out. Alright so let’s get to these kiddies shall we? Uriah is a free spirited little girl that just desires to stop being sheltered. She hate’s everyone thinking she’s the helpless little princess that can’t do anything for herself. She just wants to be free and live everyday to it’s fullest. Val on the other hand, is nothing like his twin. He’s completely amazed at the people around him and will purposely do things just to see how people react. He doesn’t actually plan anything out, he just acts on an idea that pops into his head. To everyone else Val is a quiet, timid child who doesn’t quite get a clue. But inside Val’s head… he’s completely different.
And then we have our troubled Tag who’s mad at the entire world. He has a serious drinking problem and is constantly ramming heads with Patrick because of it. They love each other, yes, but that is just a major disagreement in their lives. And also Tag has a mouth that just never keeps quiet. He says whatever pops into his head, even if he doesn’t actually mean it.
Oh and I want to thank Deanna for making the mystery girl for me! It really means a lot