Ok, I've never wrote anything like this before so, if it's really bad, you can tell me!
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I was at school when it happened. The event that caused the inevitable to happen.
They said it was some sort of freak accident. The gas pipes had blown or something. I really didn't hear them. I was still in shock. My brother wasn't though. He was full of questions.
My brother and I are twins. We both have flaming red hair and emerald green eyes. Despite the act we are identical twins, I get most of the compliments. Not that my brother cared.
We also had a four year old sister, Maggie. She didn't look anything like us, though. She had soft brown hair with thick curls. Her eyes were a complimentary color of hazel. The only resemblance was the same pattern of freckles splattered across our noses. None of us looked like our parents.
Our parents. Our parents who we were never going to see again. Our parents who, we were just informed, died in an explosion at our house. The information sank deep inside me. I couldn't make sense of it, even if I wanted to.
It was during third period History when we got the news. History, the most medieval torturing device, my brother would say. It is pretty boring though. Our teacher, Mr. Holt, had taught college history at one point. Now, he was stuck with a bunch of freshman. And, boy, could you tell he hated it. You would come in, the bell would ring and he would start talking. He would talk for the whole hour until the bell rung and then you'd leave. He expected you to take notes on what he lectured about and there would be a test once a week on those notes.
Today was just like any other, the lights were dimmed, the blinds shut. Mr. Holt was at his podium talking. I was at the back of the room, trying hard not to fall asleep. I'd already been down that road once, and I was not going back.
See, there is only one thing exciting about Mr. Holt's class: when somebody actually does fall asleep. When he sees somebody who's fast asleep, he stands up and gets his paddle and BAM he slams the paddle on the their desk. Let's just say it works most of the time.
Anyway, as I was saying, I'd already been busted once, and I wasn't planing on it happening again. I looked over at my brother, Peter, who was sitting beside me. As I expected, he was fast asleep. Just as I was about to wake him up, the office buzzed the classroom.
"Mr. Holt, could you please send Mackenzie and Peter Marshall to the office prepared to go home please," I heard the secretary, Miss Lorraine say. When Peter had heard his name, he jerked awake. Without saying anything, we left the class.
As I was packing up, I felt something wasn't quite right. It's not like our parents to pull us out of school like this. Especially right before Christmas Break, when we were taking our exams.
Peter and I made our way to the office. I got really worried when I saw through the window of the office, my Aunt Lisa and not my mom. I hardly ever saw Aunt Lisa except for Christmas. She lives on a farm in Texas by herself, so she rarely ever visits.
Being sisters, my Aunt Lisa and mom are very different. My mom had shining blond hair and hazel eyes, while my aunt had mousy brown hair which she always wears in a ponytail. My mom said Aunt Lisa was self-conscious, but I always that she was just comfortable wearing it like that.
When Peter and I walked in, I could hear Aunt Lisa and a portly police officer talking in hushed tones.
"Aunt Lisa," I said. She turned around and I could see her eyes were red from crying. She came over to me and hugged me as hard as she could. "Aunt Lisa," I said when she let go. "Where's Mom and Dad?" But I knew. I knew from her dark, flickering brown eyes, something terrible had happened to them. She looked from me to Peter, then back to me. She put her hand to her mouth and fresh tears started pouring from her eyes.
"Oh, honey," she said in her thick Texan accent. "Your moma and daddy died in an explosion an hour ago."
