The course of true love never did run smooth - A Midsummer Night's Dream
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A tale of two lost souls brought together by pain, grief and trauma.
Atlas tries to find a place in a world he's worked so hard to escape. Elijah struggles to balance the...
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I'M GOING TO be late. I'm going to be late. I'm going to be late!
The same thought jostles through my mind as I race down the hall of the university, Willow University for the Arts, the papers slipping out of my arms. Of course, I didn't think to pack them in my bag last night. That would have made things much easier, but then again, nothing I, Elijah Diggs, does is ever easy. Easy would be too...well, easy.
I honestly did have my project ready to go for today, but just before it was time to get ready for school, Daniel walked through the door. No, not walked—half-stumbled, half-dragged himself over my threshold.
My brother, Daniel, a self-destructive genius with a knack for getting into trouble. I'm not joking when I say he's a genius. He could get into Mensa if he wanted. Yes, I mean that freaking Mensa. He could but, to put it nicely, he's a bit of a wildcard. It's exasperating and, quite frankly, a waste of a brilliant mind. Meanwhile, I have to work my butt off just to get an inch closer to his level, and I still can't reach his level of intelligence.
His self-destructive tendencies have also been getting worse the older we get.
Daniel had gone out last night and came knocking on my door when the sun started to rise. He can't go back home, he'd told me. Mom and dad threw him out. Again. I'm usually the one left to pick up the pieces of Daniel's destruction, so that's precisely what I did. It's better he's at home with me than passed out in some drug den. His abrupt appearance is why I'm late this morning. I try not to curse at him as I scramble down towards my classroom.
Oh, did I mention that Daniel is my twin? Older than me by two minutes, as he likes to boast. We should be identical, and we are, with our dusty, brown hair (I keep mine short, he lets his grow out to a shaggy, greasy mess), our long limbs and height, and our round, hazel eyes surrounded by lashes I think girls would kill to have (so I've been told, anyway). The only difference between us is that I am thicker with lean muscles, and he's rail-thin and gaunt looking.
It's hard having a brother who's so destructive that he fails to see what it does to the rest of us. There have been times when Dan just disappeared, for days on end, with no note or text telling us where he was or what he was doing. Then he'll appear out of the blue, his clothes reeking and his arms full of holes.
Our parents have always encouraged us, pushed us to reach our potentials. We both have brilliant minds, they told us, and we need to strive for greatness. We are the future, and our possibilities are endless—all that typical empowering nonsense.
I'll admit, though, they were a little too hard on us. They put a little too much pressure on both of us by enrolling us in every kind of advanced class they could and hiring nothing but the best tutors. Our life was regimented to revolving around our talents: mine, music, Dan's science and math. Our life was designed to "help" us reach our fullest potential. They weren't physically abusive, but they were very good at manipulation, and their love was cold. God forbid if we got lower than an A on any assignment or test. When we were younger, we weren't allowed to listen to anything but classical music, and I didn't see a cartoon until I was in my teens. Dating was strictly out of the question, and we only had each other as friends. Nothing that would distract us from our studies.
