Inseparable

  Intro

  Hallie Sophia and Tara Tess Seraphine are 7th grade identical twins; both have long black hair (Hallie and Tara wear it the same way—down and wavy), both have elegant faces, and big shining gray eyes that hypnotize anybody who looks into them. They are identical down to the lone freckle right below their left eye.
  They look so much alike that their own mother has trouble telling them apart; they wear the same clothes, same make-up, same shoes, same lip gloss... You name it, they both have it.
  The only thing is, they act completely different. They both have their own persona—Hallie likes listening to her music loud, and insists on painting her and her sister's toenails the same color every day. She drinks with two straws in her cup, can sometimes be very loud, and talks with her hands. She has high hopes to one day be a fashion designer.
  Tara is a something else to talk about entirely. She enjoys blues, while her sister only listens to pop/rock music. She is relatively quiet and soft spoken; unless she is interested in what somebody is talking about, but hardly ever when she is insulted or verbally abused. Tara doesn't feel the need to seek conversation every second as her sister does, but will talk if she is spoken directly to. Tara has a secret that only her sister knows—she is afraid of the dark. But Hallie is scared silly by thunder, so they're both even in Tara's book.
  Very surprisingly, the twins get along famously. They have their minor arguments (away from their parents and everyone else; preferably with only the two of them) and don't always see eye-to-eye, but every sibling has that problem, right?
  Our story takes place in Hallie and Tara's home one beautiful Thursday morning in Gillette, Wyoming, before school.




*




  Hallie and Tara were sitting by the table in their matching sun dresses and sandals, eating Fruit Loops in their couple-set pink cereal bowls. The week had (so far) been uneventful, and since they had to wait until the construction for the pool outside that daddy had given them for their excellent behavior (they promised not to do anything bad ever again if they could get it) to finish, they were more than a little bored.
  “Daddy,” Hallie piped up as their father (Michael) waltzed into the kitchen in his suit and tie (he was a business man, something neither of the twins really wanted to get into). He took his usual mug from the cupboard and filled it with his ritual morning coffee. “When do you think the workers will be done? Sissy and I are just dying for a swim!”
  Michael didn't so much as glance at his daughters, knowing exactly which one had spoken to him (sadly, their mother didn't have this ability; and failed in guessing who was who. The twins never took it personally). He did, however, put some creamer in his cup and take a swig before shuffling over to the fridge and pulling out some leftovers from the day before. “Not much longer, sweetie,” he said coolly, taking a plastic bag of noodles from the fridge and popping some on his plate, easily turning on his heel to stick it in the microwave. “Just a few more days and you can invite all your friends over to have a pool party to celebrate, if you like.”
    Hallie perked up sharply, giving a chirpy “okay!” before plowing her way through her cereal, a few drops of milk splattering far enough to actually get Tara on the cheek. Disgusted, she reached for a napkin, furiously wiping away the milk and her sister's saliva from her face. Tara knew what Hallie would be talking about this morning in class—there was no doubt about it. Guess I can't blame her, she thought absentmindedly while she crumpled the napkin in her palm and set it by her bowl—which was half empty. Tara wasn't one to show excitement very often (of course, she did feel excited; just more toned down than Hallie), but she was generally pleased with the suggestion of a party. And she would get to try the new bathing suit Mom had gotten for the both of them.
  Once Tara was done with her cereal and their dad had disappeared, she offered to take Hallie's bowl to the sink. After her sister eagerly accepted, Tara stood on her toes and rinsed them both before stepping on the lever near the bottom of the trash can to lift the lid, tossing the dirty napkin inside. She slipped back into her chair when she was done, careful not to sit on her hair.
  “So, Tara,” Hallie turned in her seat, facing her twin. A smile started creeping across her lips. “Any guys you want to invite to our party? Oh c'mon T, don't give me that look!” Tara had narrowed her eyes at Hallie, displeased with the mention of boys. They were gross and sloppy, and Tara wanted nothing to do with them.
  “No.” Tara snapped, looking down at her painted toenails. Today, they were a very bright shade of pink. They looked nice with the yellow, green and salmon swirls on her dress. She looked at her hands, gripping onto her dress when breakneck force. Her knuckles where showing hints of white. Yes, very pretty.
  Hallie gave an exasperated sigh, jumping from her seat and pulling Tara along with her. She received an unpleasant hiss from her sister as payment. “Ta-aaaara,” she droned, pressing her face very close to her twin's. “We have to invite boys! Otherwise, it would be dumb and all the popular girls will look down on us!”
  “I didn't like the popular girls anyway. It's a win-win for me.”
  “Ta-ra?! I can't believe you said that!” Hallie's yelling was starting to hurt her ears. So she pulled away from her, glancing at the clock, a hand behind her neck, massaging it slightly to keep the oncoming headache at bay. 6:50 AM. The bus was going to come in ten minutes.
  Tara sighed, reaching for her backpack that was set neatly on the counter and put it on her shoulder. “Let's go wait outside,” she deadpanned, cutting off her sister's rant. She stalked toward the door—not bothering to hold it open for Hallie—and walked to the end of the sidewalk. It was a cool, crisp morning in June—it wasn't too warm (it is Wyoming, after all), but a soft breeze brushed against Tara's cheek, swirled around her dress and danced through her hair, as if Mother Nature herself was trying to sooth the twelve-year-old. She gave a small coo, her heavy eyelids closing in absolute bliss, soaking in the warmth of the weak rays of sunshine filtering through the clouds. Tara hadn't slept very well the night before, so the slight moment of relaxation was more than welcome.
  Unfortunately, it didn't detour Hallie in the slightest as she came pounding out of the house, shattering the moment of peace. “Don't be lame, Tara,” she huffed, seemingly offended by Tara's indecorous behavior. Tara knew her twin was faking it—she was very good at lying, something the younger twin (Tara was two minutes after Hallie) could ever hope to achieve. But maybe she was over thinking this. Hallie didn't mean me any harm, she supposed, sliding the other strap of her backpack onto her shoulder while tipping her head slightly back to look up at the giant Maple tree in their front yard. A robin had just made a nest there. Beautiful...
  “We could invite that boy who has the hots for you. Remember him? Emory Pall?”
  Tara gasped, spinning to face her sister. Okay, now this was something to freak out about.
  “Hallie, how could you even suggest that, after what he's done to me?” The horrible memories flashed in front of her eyes and left a bad taste in her mouth. The truth was, sweet little Tara didn't like that boy. She had good reasons, though. He sat behind her in some of her classes, and if she ever wore hair ribbons, he stole them. He also stuck tons of unmentionables in her hair. One time in fifth grade, he got gum stuck in her hair so badly she had to cut some of it off to get the darn stuff out (Hallie cut her hair with Tara in sympathy). He was like a pesky mosquito—only problem was, Tara couldn't squash him. Maybe if I could get my hands on a giant fly swatter, she thought evilly, the mental picture bringing a faint smile to her face.
  “Oh c'mon, sis,” Hallie grinned cheekily as the bus squeaked to a stop at their house. The familiar sound of the squeaky door greeted them as the bus driver opened it for them, impatient to get going again. Tara trailed after her sister unhappily—ignoring the bus driver on purpose—with her jaw firmly clenched to keep from arguing further.  She walked with Hallie until they were at the very back, in their claimed spot. Not many people were on yet, only a handful of kids Tara didn't know.
  She leaned toward Hallie, cupping her hand around her mouth to make sure nobody else heard. “You don't talk to me about the party until we get home. Got it?” Hallie nodded vigorously—her smile disappearing momentarily. Tara pushed her back into the plushy seat and looked ahead. She couldn't help but notice the friendly old woman who usually drove this bus was missing, and a younger man with pitch black hair was in her place. While she was starting at the back of the driver's head, she failed to notice another girl on the bus looking sharply in her direction.
  The rest of the bus ride to Stocktrail was quiet and uneventful: just how Tara liked it, and how Hallie hated it.


*


  Last period was killing Tara. Usually, she wasn't one to complain—but Emory Pall was in a mocking mood, and would tug on Tara's hair when she was trying her hardest to concentrate on what Miss Dandoy had to say about Greek mythology. They were on the part about Pandora, one of Tara's favorites. But the constant tugging was getting to be too much for her. So she whipped her head around, glaring daggers at Emory. He froze, looking stunned; probably because she usually didn't do anything when he picked on her. His green eyes widened and he pulled back slowly.
  “Quit touching me,” Tara hissed, venom seeping into her words. This was new to her—having a boiling point. She was so calm all of the time... It felt nice to let off some steam. “Or I'll tell Mr. Vanta.”
  Mr. Vanta was the principle. He wasn't nice on bullies.
  Emory started blushing, making his dark freckles pop out even more. His messy brown hair looked pale compared to his red skin. “Hey,” he stuttered, looking down. He was trying to say something to Tara, but she had long since stopped listening. She now had her full attention on Miss Dandoy; practically hanging off every word that came out of the teacher's mouth. They had moved onto Apollo, another favorite.
  But all good things must come to and end, and that was when the bell finally rang.
  “Oh, my,” Miss Dandoy exclaimed, flattening out the invisible wrinkles in her skirt. “I guess it's time for you all to leave. I will see you again soon—and then I will finish the rest of Apollo, and maybe even Theseus!” Miss Dandoy was the kind of women that had the long flowing blond hair and gleaming blue eyes and quirky personality. Shapely, you could call the young teacher. Tara heard some of the older kids proclaim that she was “hot” in the school cafeteria one afternoon. Miss Dandoy was very clumsy though; and nearly broke everything she touched. Tara liked her, but she wasn't very sure about what Miss Dandoy thought of her, so she tried her hardest to make a good impression.
  Tara picked up her bag and started out the door with her sister in tow (Hallie had already told everyone in the school about her soon-to-be pool party coming up), making a beeline for the school doors.
  “Tara Seraphine! Wait! I said, Tara Seraphine!”
  Tara looked back—and to her dismay—Emory came up to her, panting. Hallie was locked at Tara's shoulder in an instant, and never had Tara been so thankful to have her there. Good god, that did he want from her? Did she wrong Emory in some way or another?!
  “Tara,” he panted, catching his breath after a minute or two, “I wanted to invite you and your sister to my party this Saturday.” He said, handing the twins an envelope with a pink ribbon tied around it, labeled “Seraphine Twins” in cursive letters. Tara took it and flipped it in her hands, her face carefully composed.
  “And why,” says Tara, narrowing her eyes, “would I go to a party of yours? From what I remember, we don't like each other very much. Is this some sort of joke? Do you have any idea how insulting that is—”
  Emory cut her off. “I know, I know.” He looked wilted. “And I wanted to say that I was sorry. I have something for you in there, Tara, as an apology present.” That took her aback; and as she stood, dumbfounded in front of him, he dashed away, calling over his shoulder: “Open it when you get home, 'kay?!”
  Tara just huffed, stuffing the envelope in her bag and walking silently to the doors that lead to the outside world. She could feel her sister's curiosity radiating off of her in waves, so she just told her “later”, and was silent. Luckily, Hallie was as well.


*


  It was only when they were home and safely tucked into their room did Tara finally take out the invitation from her backpack. She carefully sat cross-legged on her bed, Hallie across from her, impatiently tapping her foot.
  “C'mon,” she drilled, shaking the bed with her furious foot tapping. “I wanna know what it says. Don't you?!”
  Tara nodded; she did want to know, but then again... What if he had planted something sinister in this envelope, just to get her back for snapping at him earlier? It sounded like something stupid Emory would do. Instead of opening the envelope, she fingered the ribbon around it. “Why would he go to all the trouble to make it pretty...?” She mumbled under her breath. But she couldn't wait any longer—Hallie made sure of that.
  If there was a trick of Emory's inside, she had fallen for it. Tara reached for the top of the envelope and tore it off mercilessly.


Chapter Two


What Tara found surprised her. She tipped the envelope upside down and wiggled it, making it's contents spill onto the bed. It didn't look like anything evil had tried to attack her. No fake snakes (he had pulled that trick on her once, by stuffing five of those dang things in her locker) or slime was in there, either. While Hallie snatched up the card that fell out in a heartbeat, Tara was still inspecting the envelope, looking for any signs of a possible trap that she could have missed.
    “It wasn't a trick!” She exclaimed, tearing the envelope in two and throwing it into her trash bin. She kept the ribbon Emory had put around it and set it on her headboard. For now, until she got a better one—it would be her good-luck charm. She looked at it for a minute, feeling shocked. She hadn't been harmed as she thought she would have. Could Emory possibly...?
  “Duh, dude,” Hallie laughed, pulling her sister over to sit by her, breaking the younger twin out of her trance. Tara dared a glance at the card. It was soft yellow (Emory's favorite color, she guessed; she saw him wear it all the time. Hallie said something about it washing him out), with big green letters printed on the front, spelling out 'YOU'RE INVITED!'.
  “Want me to read it?” Hallie questioned, opening the card before Tara could give any kind of answer. Something fell to the bed before Hallie could catch it (Tara didn't even think she noticed), so she picked it up herself.
  They were two purple ribbons. Oh my goodness! Could these be...? She could only sit, slack-jawed in awe, and listen to the sound of Hallie's voice as she started recite what Emory had wrote inside the invitation.
  “'To the Seraphine twins (I wish he would stop calling us that): I would like to invite you to my party this Saturday at 5:00 PM. Inside this is two matching ribbons, to replace the countless I have destroyed—I really hope you two like them, because I spent forever trying to figure out what you two would look better in. Purple, in my opinion. I would love it if you wore them to the party. Bye. Emory.' It just gives us his address and stuff at the bottom. Oh, and we're supposed to wear something either casual or formal, because there may or may not be dancing. Whichever you prefer, it says.”
  Tara was still astonished from getting the ribbons. They were silk—they must have cost Emory a fortune.
  Hallie waved a hand in Tara's face. “Hey, twin, snap outta it.” Tara blinked. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all... But if so, Tara supposed before giving Hallie her own ribbon, why the tough guy act? But she decided not to think about it, so she dropped the thought of Emory and looked up at her sister. Hallie was gazing down at her present, smiling brightly.
  “You know what this means?!” When Tara didn't respond, Hallie jumped up on the bed and squealed. “We just got invited to the cutest boy in school's party!”
  “But Hallie,” Tara flicked one of her twins' legs, “what about our party?”
  “We can postpone it.”
  “But I thought you really wanted to have it this Saturday?”
  “Yes, but I really want to go to Emory's more.”
  “But—”
  “Tara!” Hallie plopped down on the bed and took her sister by the shoulders. “Stop trying to find a reason not to go to his party! What are you afraid of? It's gonna be awesome!”
  Tara honestly didn't know what to say. It was the truth—she was still a little apprehensive about going. But who could blame her?
  As if knowing what was going through Tara's head, Hallie pulled her into a reassuring hug. “You'll be fine. You'll have me!” She said happily, causing Tara to wrap her arms around her sister.
  “Gotcha.”
  Hallie let go of her twin and jumped down from the bed, pacing back and forth. “I wonder who else will be there? Oh, I hope I get to dance with Fitch!”
  Tara reeled back, disgusted at the thought. Fitch Emeralds was another popular boy in school; Emory Pall's best friend, in fact. They were trouble makers, they were. Well... Tara looked away from her sister. Emory used to be mean... I'm not so sure about my opinion of him anymore. Before Hallie could proceed in proclaiming how “amazing” and “cute” Fitch was, their parents called them for dinner. Tara gave Hallie a sympathetic look before hopping off the bed herself and grabbing her twins' hand to lead her downstairs for supper.
  It was then, when they all sat down at the table with their bowls filled to the brim with mac 'n' cheese with hotdogs (on Tara's request—it was her favorite), Tara gathered the courage to tell them. Hallie was giving her sister's hand reassuring squeezes under the table, which Tara was grateful for.
  Around the end of the meal, Hallie and Tara both told them all about the party (with Tara trying to leave out as much of Emory Pall and Fitch Emeralds as she could). Their dad thought it was a terrific idea, and allowed them to go. Their mom was little bit more cautious, but then gave in and started fretting over what her little babies were going to wear for their first ever party without them.
  So they were going to Emory's party. Officially. No turning back. But Tara wasn't scared anymore. What could possibly go wrong?
  Little did she know... Everything.


*


  “Oh, Tara,” her mother cooed, gripping Hallie's shoulders in the Maurice's dressing room, looking happily into the mirror they were standing in. “You look gorgeous in this dress!”
  “I'm Hallie, mom,” she chided, pointing to her smiling sister sitting in the chair behind them. “That's Tara.” Their mother blushed a deep scarlet and stuttered an apology, but Hallie and Tara both just shrugged it off.
  Their mom had taken them to the clothing store—an expensive clothing store, if Tara might add—insisting that they get new dresses and shoes for the party. “A girl has got to look good at parties,” mom had said. Tara didn't exactly agree, but she kept that to herself. If she knew one thing about her mother, it was to never start an argument about clothes or shoes. You would definitely lose.
  Tara glanced at her SpongeBob watch (the only thing Hallie didn't have—she hated SpongeBob). The numbers showed three-thirty-o'clock. She stifled a yawn and started to fiddle with her hair, thoroughly bored. They had been here for over half an hour because of Hallie. Literally everything they picked up, she shot down without a second thought. This is going to take forever, Tara thought miserably.
  “Anyway,” Hallie said, turning away from the mirror and peeling off her black dress, “I don't like this one. Too plain.”
  Tara groaned in agony. “We've already tried on half the store! Can't you just find something and we can leave?”
  Hallie glared at her sister. Tara didn't complain often, but if she did, the older twin easily put her back in her place.
  She sighed audibly. “Look at it this way, sis... At this rate, we won't find anything before Emory's party tomorrow. Personally, I liked the dark purple one the best on you.” It was always easier to let one twin try something on instead of both—because they're identical, the dress would look the same on both of them. Hallie stopped to consider what her sister said, then slowly started to nod.
  “I agree!” Their mom piped up, snatching her purse off the floor. “So, Hallie, Tara, have we made a decision?”
  The twins nodded in unison.
  “Okay!” She picked up the purple dress Tara liked from the rejection pile Hallie had made, “then I'll just take this, and go get one more. And you guys want the black kitten heels, right?”
  They nodded again, and their mother was off. Tara was glad to have her mom, even though she was a ditz. Zoe (it wasn't unusual for Tara to call her parents by their names, no matter how much they didn't like it) was simply gorgeous and had a bubbly personality to boot. She has round blue eyes that resemble two pools of water that that the twins envied—her luxurious, curly, waist length hair is the color of dark chocolate. She usually wore it in a complex, carefully-crafted style that took her about forty minutes to make every day. Hallie and Tara looked nothing like Zoe, but more like Michael. Tara instinctively pulled out a picture from her back pants pocket. She carefully unfolded it and smiled—it was a picture of her family when they went to Hot Springs, South Dakota. They were in Reptile Gardens, looking very happy with their arms looped together and big smiles across their faces. Tara loved this picture, so much that she carried it with her everywhere.
  You could tell the twins got their looks from Michael—he looked like a clever fox, while Zoe was more soft. Michael had narrow, coffee-colored eyes that both the twins adored. His hair was thick and red and sometimes looked like an overused mop; but it suited his facial structure.
  No, neither of their parents has black hair. And no, neither originally had black hair and dyed it just for the heck of it. Tara already asked, and Zoe said no—she also said they got the black hair somewhere in her bloodline, and their gray eyes were from their father's. Or was it the other way around? Whatever, I'll figure it out later. Tara folded the picture and looked up as her sister finished dressing (both were wearing pants and a simple pink t-shirt).
  “Hey,” Hallie ushered Tara out of the dressing room, and together they walked to the register, where their mom was busily trying to get a better deal on the dresses (it wasn't like they were hurting for money, but mom was mom) and holding up a line. “Do you think Daddy will let us get our ears pierced?”
  Tara shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.”
  Hallie beamed. “Let's ask!” She pulled on her mother's sleeve gently, but just enough to get her attention while the cashier was bagging their dresses. Hallie opened her mouth to say something, but the cashier did it before her.
  “Would you like a punch card?” She said, her teeth clenching. Mom must have rubbed her the wrong way, Tara thought to herself, looking the cashier up and down. She was tense, her skin a dark brown to go with her large forehead and a strong chin. Her beige hair reminded Tara of a turtle's shell for some odd reason. She looked down at her name tag. It read: Allegra.
  “No, thank you,” Zoe smiled, picking up the bag and spinning on her heel (she narrowly missed hitting Hallie with her elbow, thank gosh Hallie moved out of the way in time). “Come along girls, we're going home. Daddy has a surprise for you when we get there.”
  Hallie didn't falter from her intention of asking to pierce both their ears, but temporarily dropped it and followed behind her mother, with Tara in tow.


*


  “Now, watch out for the door... Are you guys ready?”
  Zoe and Michael both insisted that when they got home, the girls had to cover their eyes while their parents led them outside, to see whatever the surprise was. Hallie was as impatient as ever, making sounds in the back of her throat. Truth be told, Tara was even starting to get a little anxious herself. She opened her eyes under her father's hands, trying to peek. What could it possibly be? She fiddled with the Maurice's bag in her hand nervously.
  “Yes, yes, yes!” Hallie blurted. “Can we just see already?! I'm dying!”
  The younger twin heard Michael's metallic laughter behind her. “Okay, okay... On the count of three.”
  Tara sucked in a breath, screwing her eyes shut.
  “One... Two... Three! Open!”
  Tara did as she was told, and gasped. The pool... It was finished! And it even had water in it! She heard her sister's squeal as she went dashing to the pool (throwing off her shoes and socks in the process) and suck her big toe in experimentally.
  “Oh, it's perfect!” She clapped her hands together, taking her toe out of the water. “Thank you both so much!” She came clopping back to their smiling parents and hugged them tightly.
  Tara did so too, but not before lightly punching her dad in the arm. “I thought you said it was going to be done on Saturday?”
  “What can I say?” He chuckled, releasing his daughters and wife. “I thought so too; I guess they just finished earlier than they expected.”
  “Well, Daddy,” Hallie let go of her mother and looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “I was wondering if me and Tara could get our ears pierced?”
  “No.”
  Hallie looked astounded; it took a while for her to reply. “But Daddy,” she eagerly pulled on her father's sleeve. “All the girls in school have them. Can we please have at least one? We'll take very good care of them so we don't get infections, promise! I even asked Mommy at Maurice's. She said it was fine with her.”
  Michael seemed to consider this, and for awhile was silent. He then finally cracked his neck and said “Okay, fine—but only on your thirteenth birthday, and if you both are good up til then.”
  This wasn't what Hallie wanted to hear, but at least they were getting them. She nodded and grabbed Tara's hand, leading her into the house through the screen door. “Deal. But remember,” she said over her shoulder, “our birthday is August thirteenth! Last time, you forgot.”
  “It's the third of June. Don't get too stoked; you still have three months.”
  Hallie glared at her smiling father and her giggling mother. “You two,” Zoe said, grabbing her husband's hand. “Go upstairs and take a shower and get some sleep. You have a party tomorrow!” With that, Hallie bounded away obediently to do what she was told—after all, if she wasn't good, no pierced ears for her.


Chapter Three


  Tara opened her eyes while yawning profusely, taking a slow look around her dimly lit room—across from her lay Hallie's bed, with Hallie still blissfully asleep inside of it. She was moving around and kicking all of her blankets off, like she always did. Nothing out of the ordinary.
  Losing interest in Hallie's thrashing habits quickly, Tara glanced at her SpongeBob alarm clock on her nightstand—7:57 AM was written in big, bold numbers. She imagined it telling her to put her head back down on her pillow and get a couple more hours of shut-eye. But it didn't work, like usual. She let out a disappointed groan.
  Saturday morning. The morning that she had been worrying and all this other junk about. It was the morning Tara had stayed up all night to think about—well, she stayed up against her will, because she had the pre-party jitters. Anybody who had them knows that it keeps you from sleeping the night before a very important party.
  Not like this party is very important, she thought grumpily, screwing her eyes shut in hopes of going back into dreamland. Again, sleep evaded her.
  It's just Emory's party. Stupid Emory...
  Tara leaned up, her elbows supporting her. She let her head hang back, her hair cascading down her shoulders in cool, ebony waves—she had taken a shower last night (one of her failed attempts to get herself sleepy) so she smelled nice and fresh and felt clean.
  “Not like I care what I look like when I'm at Emory's place.” She hissed, staring her ceiling down as if it had just drank all of her chocolate milk (hey, she liked milk). But her train of thought slowly wandered as her tummy growled, indicating it was time for breakfast. The clock inside her tummy would never let her miss a meal even if she tried.
  She flipped her covers off, quietly getting out of bed. She tip-toed across the large rug to the door, trying not make a sound.
  She reached for the knob and turned it: it screeched and wailed what seemed to be even louder than it usual did, causing Tara to freeze in her spot as if she just stepped in quick sand. All fell eerily silent. She could have sworn on her Grandmother's grave that she could hear a pin drop a mile away. Taking a chance, she twisted the knob again—the door emitted one more high pitched squeal in protest before she finally got it open and safely walked out into the hallway. She didn't bother to shut it. Darn thing needed a fixin' soon, or she'd end up kicking it down.
  She carefully stalked through the hall, her hand loosely gripping the handrail as she trotted down the stairs—she had learned this the hard way. She had fallen haft way down these things when she hadn't been holding it, and she acquired several bruises in doing so. Not to mention the trip to the doctor to fix a bulging disk.
  That reminds me. Tara thought idly. Goosebumps raised on her arms when her bare feet touched the tile, but she carried on, stepping through the archway into the kitchen. I have a check-up with the doctor tomorrow to see if my back is better. She rubbed her lower back loosely, then switched to her arms. Kinda chilly in the kitchen. I hope it isn't too cold for Emory's party. She narrowed her eyes. I'd hate to have bad weather ruin my whole day...
  With a heavy sigh, she tugged the fridge open roughly—darn thing squeaked as well—and dove for the milk. She practically flung the milk on the counter behind her, causing the contents of the half empty container to swish around. She shut the fridge door and opened two cupboards just to the right of it—one for her SpongeBob bowl, the other for her favorite cereal, Count Chocula. She stood on her toes to grab both items, cursing herself for having such a short body and set to making her breakfast.


*


  After eating and putting her dishes in the sink, it was already 8:47. Mom and Dad had gotten up and greeted her, made idle chit-chat about school and their work before Tara went up to her room to take a little nap on Mom's request.
  At 9:30, when her parents were well gone on their ways to work, Tara rolled out of bed and went to brush her teeth, giving up on the idea of any more sleep. She was slightly groggy, but after her carefully practiced oral cleaning routine (her dentists loved her and her teeth) she cracked her neck and each one of her knuckles, a secret of hers that helped her wake up on difficult mornings.
  “That's really, really gross. You should stop doing it.”



___
Author's Note: Chapter three is not finished, so there may be changes to it in the future, but I just wanted to put what I have up for you all.