Crit please? (: Each step I took, a slap resounded against the soaking pavement. My hard breath was the only sound besides the splash of my sneakers dipping into puddles. It was too dark to see the sidewalk well, but by the occasional puddles I stepped in, I’d figured out by now it’d rained while I was sleeping last night. I smiled slightly—I liked the rain. It was cool and calming, and I loved standing out in the middle of a storm. It was almost peaceful. It was so loud around me, the dribble, dribble, dribble of the drops splattering against the ground—yet I felt as if I were in my own little bubble, untouchable. My house came into view, and though all of the houses were supposed to look similar, I could clearly tell mine apart. A sweet little wooden rocking chair just under the edge of the porch roof’s cover, and the yellow and red tulips my sister and I had spent so long working on. They toppled over sideways, and though they were constantly cared for, they died on us every year. Regardless, we planted yellow and red tulips every time. The front door was ajar slightly. Regal was probably up, waiting for me to get back. Panting from my run, I paused before shoving open the door. I let my the hood of my jacket fall away, and ruffled my glossy deep black hair. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. This was my little time of day I had to myself, before every other minute was devoted to someone else. After a moment, my eyes fluttered open. Rise and shine, I remembered what my mom used to say. I’d laugh at her, saying there was no shine to waking up for school. She’d always counter, Of course there is! You shine by being yourself, Echo. I’d always thought that my name, Echo, was beautiful. When I thought of it, I thought of gorgeous snow-capped mountains. Someone perched on the very top, surveying the world with a smile, knowing this is something they’re not likely to forget. Slowly, I pushed the red paint-chipped door open. In case she was still asleep, I called out at slightly below normal pitch. “Regal—are you up, sweetie?†I heard the wrinkle of a plastic bag, and quiet but rapid footfalls. I could feel the corners of my lips pulling up into a smile. “Regal…†I caught sight of her blonde curls, tangled in a nasty bedhead. In her grip was a bag of BBQ chips. She ignored me, knowing perfectly well that if I tattled, she’d be eaten alive. “Shh!†Regal ordered, her ocean blue eyes falling on me. “Don’t tell them! I just… love these chips…†She traced her pinky longingly over the label of the bag. She winked, shoved a chip into her mouth, and crinkled up the bag, tossing it back in the pantry. “They’re still upstairs,†Neither Regal or I were comfortable saying “mom†or “dad†yet. We knew our parents—we knew that these were…not. People who insisted we call them such, but to Regal and I, that was a lie. Regal and I are related by blood, not that you could tell by our looks. My hair is a deep shade of black with beach-like waves, and my eyes are an emerald green, while Regal’s hair is a tangle of golden curls with sapphire-like blue eyes. Our personalities aren’t that similar, either, but all we have left is each other. Pretty depressing thought in my eyes, considering the only person I can rely on is a ten-year-old girl who could pass for eight. Still, I smiled at my innocent little sister. I barely breathed the word “goodâ€, before I walked calmly over the slam the door of the house. I really hoped it woke them up and ruined their day. People like them didn’t even deserve a Saturday morning.
