This story is written in perspective of Ginevra's dead sister, Samantha, who, when alive, Ginevra would have told no one about. It starts from the beggining of when the they move away from where they first lived to a quiet part of town so no one would know what was happening with their family. It's just some sort of spur I thought about, so hopefully you like it!
There was a big difference looking upon a timeline of life, seeing my parents’ generation and then looking into my own. Secrets could never be kept, lives could never be simple and drama erupted like volcanoes that had been waiting to explode for years on end. Could you guess which generation was like that? Of course it had to typically be my own, while my parents had it way easier. The thing was, I did have a new secret, and this one could not be found out. In stories people read, most sides had a good and a bad, this one only had a bad for me, since generally this whole story wasn’t about me. I was the secondary character, involved only by relation. It all made sense when put into perspective, my sister getting powers, leaving me to only watch and see what she would be able to do over the years, and try and break the, what seemed to be, a law on nothing being kept to just one person, or family. Tell anyone, even your closest, most trusted friend a secret and it was out within a week. People found out no matter what it was you were hiding, or trying too, but how? That was the whole mystery. Tell no one about what it was, and everyone around you seemed to know sooner. It was all messed up. Because of all the secrets that we now had because of her, instead of disowning her, like I suggested, we were moving down to the country area to make an easier living- or so it was supposed to be like that. Could you really blame me for saying I hated her in my own sense? Not on the outside, but at least in my mind? All because of Ginevra, we had to move away and be without the people we already knew. My life had to change because she was something special. Want to know something even better? As I sit here in the back, alone, writing this all and looking up at my parents turning into our new drive way, I’m listening to my mom admit that she is a witch as well. Dad didn’t make much of a reaction, so I’m guessing he already knew. The only thing you need to know about me, is that I’m Samantha, the one that is now not-so-special and will, most likely, just be forgotten because I have no talents. I’m not like Ginevra. I can’t sing, I can’t write and I can definitely not do any hockis pokis crap that, soon enough, she will be able to perform whenever she pleases. This is my new life but for now, unpacking is what I have to be used for. Wahoo.
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