I'm really nervous about what people are going to think of this, and I really hope you like it! (My first post of my own writing...)
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The house itself is blocked off by yellow tape, with the words “Crime Scene: Do Not Cross” written all over it, but yet, you can’t really call it a house. It’s more just a giant pile of rubble; gray, white, and brown pieces of wood, plaster, and cement covering what used to be some sort of foundation. Detectives and policemen swarm around it, assessing the damage and making notes on clipboards. Fifty feet back, news crews are jabbering away at the cameras, describing what has happened.
“…the police do not know what caused the explosion,” one lady is saying to a camera, “but it is assumed that if anyone was inside at the time, they would not have survived.”
There is one person who knows better. One block down the road, away from all the pandemonium, a curly-haired, hazel-eyed boy sits on a stone wall, waiting. He’s wearing a blue plaid shirt and a pair of dark jeans that are torn and ripped at the knee from numerous falls off a skateboard. A backpack sits at his feet, and he stares at it as if he’s waiting for it to begin to collect dust. His eyes slowly wander to the commotion down the street, but then he looks away as if it’s hurting him to look.
Is he waiting for nothing? In the back of his mind, he knows that it’s all over, but he’ll never admit it. Maybe it’s because he’s too proud. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to admit that she’s gone.
Now he stares at his hands, which glow faintly in the late afternoon sunlight. He closes his eyes and bites his lip, but the glow doesn’t seem to get brighter. Frustrated, he lets go of whatever power he was gathering in his palms and lets it evaporate into the air. No energy. No way to save her.
Mentally, he can’t feel her presence in his mind. For as long as he could remember, the two were connected… connected with a bond stronger than anyone else could contemplate. They were more than just twins, they were one being, one heart, one soul. Together forever.
Or so they’d thought. Maybe their bond wasn’t that strong, because now it was broken, and he felt lost. He’d always relied on her, and now…
Does it only seem cliché to him? That they’re living a life meant for storybooks and movies? That even though he knows that she’s gone, she’ll probably end up coming back, like in all the stories? He doesn’t want to live in a Barbie princess movie, but he wants her to be okay. But the glittery, fairy-tale ending isn’t what he wants, either.
From out of nowhere, a butterfly flutters past his face and lands on his hand. Slowly, his eyes drift downwards to examine the little creature. He moves his hand closer to his face to get a better look at it. For some reason the pretty little bug seems to have some sort of significance to him. Like it was his last connection to her that he had.
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Somewhere far, far away, a girl examines an identical butterfly, and before the creature can react, rips its wings right off. If she can’t fly away, why should it be able to?
Wow! This is great! You captured my attention from the very beginning. I love the fact that the twins are so close. This is a very sweet story! Are you going to keep writing? I hope you are. 
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