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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Death · #1144061
Dorian goes to live with herrelatives when her parents fall out of the picture.
In every book I read there is always a massive exaggeration of what a normal human being can do. Even in fantasy novels, this idea, in fact, the entire concept of one human being able to stand under the pressure of the world on his shoulders in completely ridiculous. A single human cannot 'save the world'. It is about as realistic as a man being able to lift a car. This concept, fictional or other wise, annoys and in some cases infuriates me. Why do we always try to make our race out to be more than it is? Why does the fate of the world always rest upon one chosen one? Why do we make this 'saviour' out to be so wonderful, only to end his story in anguish? You read as good a number of books as I have and you will grow as frustrated with human kind as I have. There's no originality left in the world for good storytellers to build off of, so they morph men into what they wish they would be and brag of their deeds.

That, my friends, is arrogance. Arrogance is a sin.

At least, that's what I used to believe.

My name is Dorian. Dorian Gray. Yes, like from the novel, the Picture of Dorian Gray. Of course I am not that person. I do not have scarlett lips or blue eyes or golden hair. I have never met any person by the name of Kelso or Agatha. I am, 17, and, in fact, a girl. I will not describe my self further at the risk of sounding egotistical. I would so hate to appear so, you see. Though, like the original Dorian Gray, I have no parents, my mother being in a rehab center due to the drugs she took following the murder of my brother, and my father being incarcerated for said murder of my brother, Dolorian. Mother loved the story of Dorian Gray even more than I did, you see. So, in honor of him, her first born child would be named 'Dorian' and ever child thereafter would have a similar name. My sister, Desper, was more like Dorian than I ever will be. She had scarlett lips, bright blues eyes and golden hair, and in fact was friends with a girl named Agatha. But, following the murder of my brother, Dolorian, my father proceeded to demolish the rest of our family. Only Mother, Door and myself remained of our once prosperous family of 5 children, a Mother, a Father, a Mad Uncle, and a Mad Aunt. Well, my Mad relatives weren't around, so I don't normally consider them.

I said earlier that Mother was in rehab due to Dolorian's murder. I never mentioned the others. She wouldn't have taken those drugs if Dolorian hadn't died. He was the oldest boy, her precious one, the only one she truely cared for. If he had been born a moment earlier, his name would have been Dorian, not me. We were twins you see. I was the first to come, and as promise, Mother named the first child Dorian. I don't ever think she forgave me for slandering the Dorian Gray name with my being a girl. Door forgave me though. Door always forgave me. Even for not saving Dolorian when I could have. I would have died in his stead and everything would be normal. Mother would not be gone. Everything is normal to Door as long as Mother is around.

~

Mad Uncle Holio steps forward out of his blue Fararri, holding out his hand to Mad Aunt Genine. She slaps it away, sniffing through her pencil nose and taking the hand of a spiffy looking bell hop. I step out without help, carrying my backpack over one shoulder. Door slides gracefully out right behind me dragging her rolling suit case. I'm older than her by four years and yet she towers over me like she's my elder instead of visa versa. She has Mother's black curls of hair and Father's pale skin and watery green eyes. She's wearing Desper's old jeans and Dolorian's old shirt and my old sneakers. She has nothing on her than isn't someone else's. She even has part of Mother's liver from a long ago opperation that saved her life but condemed Mother's. But then, that's Door for you. There's not enough originality left in our family for her to be different.

to be continued...
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