The Beatific and The Flawless Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1 – THE BEGINNING.
I was born in 1991 in Las Vegas, U.S.A to Poppy and Douglas Dashwood. My mom was a showgirl and my dad was a bartender. When I was 7 my sister Rain was born, and she was so beautiful right from the start, so different from me, with a bit of blonde hair and big blue eyes that were so strange to me, they seemed to be several different colours all at once. First they were blue, then they were grey, then they were teal, and finally they seemed to settle on being blue with a purple tinge. Her skin was so pale, almost the exact opposite colour to my own coffee-bean skin, and so soft and smooth, while mine was coarse and dry. She looked at me with eyes that were already so intelligent, I had to look away for fear of...I don’t know why I looked away, or what it was in fear of, but I did it anyway. When Rain was 2, we realised she was unable to speak, so we taught her a rudimentary sign language. My life was perfect, or so my friends thought. Even though Rain couldn’t speak, she was still superior to me in every way. If she wanted something, we had to give it to her. When she bugged me, I wasn’t allowed to hurt her or yell at her, because mom thought she was “Fragile” and “Had to be treated with care and respect.” Gag me. So, here I was, 9 years old with a little sister who couldn’t even talk, but still bossed me around like SHE was the one who was 7 years older! Sometimes I wished there was a way to get out of it. One day, when I was 12, I did the unthinkable. I took a small knife out of the drawer and went up to my room. I locked the door and turned on my favourite song at the time, Tourniquet by Evanescence. I began to cut. I felt so horrible, I was crying, taking deep shuddering breaths. I remembered what I had heard a girl at my school say, across the Street, not down the Road. So I cut across. There was blood dripping down my arm. Eventually, I was numb. I felt no more pain, so I bandaged my arm, cleaned the knife and went to bed.