I stood at the edge of my balcony, staring out at the moon's sparkling reflection as it rippled across the large lake that took up half of my family's estate. I listened to all of the soothing sounds surrounding me; doing my best to tune out my elder brother's snoring.
He and I were still forced to share a bedroom.
Of course, by now, we had a treaty worked out.
Every morning, I got the bathroom so that I could change, do my makeup, my hair, and whatever else I may need. He got the bedroom to change and brush his hair and teeth.
He was much more low maintenance than I was. I certainly couldn't be called high maintenance, though.
Neither of us were too terribly concerned about our outward appearance.

I sighed, resting my chin in my hand as I let my elbow rest on the balcony's railing.
The sounds of the crickets and the wind blowing through the trees were so relaxing that I often drifted
away into a magical daydream when I was here at this time of night. The wind blew the silk curtians around the french doors, similar to what you'd see in an old romance film.

I had to admit; this home really looked like something straight off of the movie screen. The lake was surrounded by white and violet flowers. I couldn't see them very well, but I was certain that the violet flowers were common mallow flowers and that the white ones were Tiger Lilies or Shasta Lilies.
Madonna lilies, maybe?

I sighed, too tired to remember the names of the flowers I had used in my flower arraignment class. I knew for a fact that I had seen a few November Lilies in there, as well. What was with my mother and flowers? I was surprised I had not been named after a flower. Though, I supposed, it may have been because of my mother's gypsy nature that she named us. My name, Tellamina, had been her idea. My brother's, Balric, had been my father's. Balric had nicknamed me "Mimi" back when I was a little baby and it had stuck ever since. It was annoying. I just called him Balric. I wasn't much of one to use pet names or anything like them for someone. Not even my brother. I didn't use the typical "mom" and "dad", either. I called them mother and father.
I felt no emotional ties to anyone but my brother, and that was simply because we were twins.
Fraternal, of course. Technically, he was a day older than me because of the timing of our birth.

He was turning seventeen today. I would be seventeen tomorrow. We looked different, too. Not only was I slender and had a dainty build, but I had short, asymmetrical, jet-black hair and icy blue eyes that had white pupils. I had the fairest skin in the neighborhood, as well.
I could've passed for albino had it not been for my dark hair. What made my skin seem so much paler was my dark red lips.
They looked maroon and they were completely natural, to my dismay.
Most people wouldn't even wear lipstick this dark of red.

My brother, on the other hand, was tall with an average, slightly muscular build. He had fair skin, too, but it was much darker than mine and his lips were an appropriate tone.
He had the same icy blue eyes I had, but his pupils were black.
He had hair that was the brightest red I had ever laid eyes on. It was naturally quite spiky.
His hair spiked out in every which direction. They covered his eyes a majority of the time, often making it hard to tell what he was thinking.
He had dimples, too, which I lacked.

Our personalities were polar opposites, as well. He had a vibrant personality that matched his hair. He was witty and a constant source of humor. He always seemed to be happy. I, on the other hand, was very reserved and only spoke my opinion when I, personally, thought it mattered.
I wouldn't go as far to say that I was depressed, though I nowhere near as optimistic as Balric.
Perhaps I was born in the wrong family... I looked nothing like either of my parents, who both shared the fiery-red-head trait of my brother.
The only thing I had that looked like my parents' was that I had my mother's eyes, minus the black pupils.

I thought a bit more before eventually deciding it was futile to try and stay up any longer. I sighed and went back to the room, to my own bed. As I layed down on my bed, I looked around the room.
It was so calming.
The walls were a forest green.
The hardwood floors were a dark oak that matched our dressers, window sills, and doorframes.
Everything matched perfectly. Sometimes, that was what made me hate this place. Everything always had to be perfect; even the people. It was no wonder I was such a shame to my family; I was the odd little girl who could see spirits and even hear them, if I concentrated hard enough.
My oddities made me despised by most people in the city.
I only had two friends: Balric and another oddity in the city; a girl named Aroura St. Jacobs.
She liked to call herself Amethyst. Aroura was too girly for her tastes. She was a rebellious girl, the same age as me, and had an even odder gift than I did...