The day my father died I was 11. It was a normal rainy day and I was sitting at lunch with my twin brother J short for Jupiter. We were eating lunch till a teacher told us to go to the office which was normal for me because I wasn't the most behaved kid in school but for J it was rare. As the women finished talking, J and I looked at one another puzzled little did we know that day would be the worst day of our lives.