Status: completed.

The Wrong One


They got off the plane to refreshed legs.

Currently, they were waiting for Zacky’s second bag at the baggage claim.

“Do you know what the term is for when they make you get off the plane?” Zacky asked to fill the silence.


“How did you know that?”

“Everyone knows that, Zacky,” Sian said, rolling her eyes.

“Well we fucking didn’t. We were getting on a plane one time and Christ was drunk as shit and he fucking got us kicked off. The bitch was like ‘I’m sorry sir, but we have to off-load you at this time’,” Zacky said in a fake British accent.

Sian laughed as he reached for his bag.

They made their way outside of the airport and side by side, they stood waiting for a taxi. Finally, one stopped and they climbed in the backseat. Sian held out a piece of paper to show the driver.

Ci puoi prendere qui?”

Si,” the cab driver said and he took off.

“You speak Italian?” Zacky asked, close to her ear.

“Along with two other languages, yes I do.”

“What other languages can you speak?”

“French and Russian.”

“Why the hell would you want to know Russian?” Zacky asked confused.

“I think it’s a beautiful language. Plus, it got me out of the house a lot.”

“What, Russian?”

“No, the Russian class.”

“Why would you want to get out of the house?” Zacky asked, looking Sian in the eye.

“I couldn’t take the fighting,” Sian replied, and turned to look out of her window.

Zacky didn’t say anything, but he watched her. He saw her raise her hand to her mouth and chew on her thumbnail, but she didn’t look away from the window.

Sam had told him a bit about their parents, and how their dad was injured at work and how he stayed drunk the whole day, but he didn’t remember her mentioning anything about them fighting. He was curious now, more than he had been, but he knew she’d shut down if he tried to talk about it. Still, he wanted to know.

“Sam told me a bit about your parents, but she never said anything about fighting.”

“She wouldn’t know. She was never home long enough to hear them.”

Zacky was about to ask her another question when he realized the taxi had stopped. They got out and Sian handed the driver money she’d exchanged at the airport. They stood in front of the hotel for a few seconds before heading in.

They made their way up the three flights of steps before standing in front of the door Bryce had told them they were staying at. Sian raised her fist and knocked on the door. There was some noise and then the door pulled open.

“What do you want?” Bryce asked, looking at Zacky.

Sian stepped from behind him. “Hi, Bryce. Can I see my sister’s shit?”

“Wow, Sian. Rude, much?”

“You shouldn’t have let her out of your sight,” Sian replied and pushed her way into the room.

She found Sam’s stuff all pushed to one corner of the room. She grabbed the suitcase and set it down on the floor. She rifled through her clothes but didn’t find anything.

“What are you looking for?” Delia asked, coming to kneel beside her.

“Samantha keeps a journal.”

“Wait, what?” Bryce asked, confused.

“Samantha keeps a journal. She writes in it almost every day. I’m hoping she left it in here instead of taking it with her,” Sian explained.

She unzipped the pocket on the bottom of the lid and stuck her hand inside. She pulled out the notebook and held it up, showing Bryce.

“How the hell do you know about that?”

“We may not talk much, Bryce, but we’re still twins,” Sian said as an explanation and stood up after zipping up the suitcase and taking it with her. “Thanks for this.”

She pushed passed Bryce and nodded for Zacky. Once they left, Bryce closed the door and locked it, turning back around to Delia.

“This isn’t good,” she said, looking at the mixed girl in front of her.
♠ ♠ ♠
AHA! It's actually quite elementary, my dear Mr. Watson.
wamp wamp. a journal?
i guess we'll see what's in it (: if you guys could see my face right now, it would look like this. pahaha.
guess what!??!!?!?!
Should I post it?!
hi to all my new readers, and welcome!
drop a comment;;