As the sunlight streaked through the window and laid upon my face, I wake up from a good night’s rest. I sat up on my bed and looked around my bedroom in an attempt to fully wake up. Everything seemed to be the same. The white walls with band posters everywhere, my dresser that stands against the wall opposite of the bedroom door, and my bed up against the window. I climb out of bed and start making my way to the bathroom that is just down the hall.

As I slowly shuffle across the floor, a door next to me opens. Looking as tired as I am, my twin brother, Jason, emerges. We are not identical, only fraternal, since I am female. Jason and I shared a look that seemed like we were conversing, but no words were spoken. Communicating with only my eyes, I said, “I take the bathroom first”, to which he responded with, “Don’t take too long”. I continue my way down the hall while Jason goes down the stairs, I assume to eat breakfast.

I entered the bathroom and rub the sleep from my eyes, glancing at myself in the mirror for a moment. There are some features that I share with my brother. We both have pale skin, dark brown hair, and hazel eyes. We have distinct German features, since our great-grandparents immigrated from Germany to America, settling in Pennsylvania. For the most part, we look pretty normal, the only difference is that we have more of a German accent from our parents, and their parents’ parents, than our neighbors, who sound more Dutch. Our parents have their accents thicker while Jason and I sound more Americanized..

I put those thoughts aside while I get my morning started with a shower. I finish, and apply some light makeup before heading downstairs. It is not much, just some eyeliner with mascara. After my makeup, I get dressed for school and continue downstairs for breakfast.

As I walk down the stairs, I pass by Jason. We shared a look again. This time, it was more of a, “Let’s get this day over with,” from the both of us. I make my way to the kitchen to grab an apple to eat. I do not eat much for breakfast; in fact, I do not eat much at all. Unlike Jason, I do not have a large stomach. I can get by fine if I eat light during each meal. Some people would comment about it, and have, like I am trying to starve myself to look as thin as the models that can be seen on the television. I laugh and say, ”No, I am naturally thin, but not that thin.” I believe I am average.

With the apple completed, I toss the core and start packing my schoolbag. I cannot wait for the last three months until I graduate, and then I will not have to go to school anymore. It is okay, but thirteen long years can be tough. Jason, on the other hand, loves school. He loves to learn, and is always reading and doing schoolwork. I have regular classes while he has honors classes with straight A’s. I try to not let it get to me, but sometimes there are days he feels boastful about it. I make sure to remind him how much it annoys me.

Putting my schoolbag on, Jason joins me downstairs and scoops up his. He dons it as well, and notices me holding back a laugh. His tie seemed like it was all over the place. He followed the direction of where I was looking, and noticed it himself. He sighed and rolled his eyes, proceeding to fix the tie. I do not blame him for getting a little annoyed by it; it is what uniforms do. The school we go to has a strict dress code, for some stupid reason, and all of the students are required to wear the uniforms. The boys have to wear a white button down shirt with a black tie, black pants with a black belt, and black shoes. Their shirts must be tucked in, and a black suit jacket in case of cold weather is optional. The girls have to wear almost the same thing, minus the tie, and a skirt that reaches our knees instead of pants. We have to wear white stockings as well. This is also why I cannot wait for school to fully end: no more uniforms.

Jason and I head out the door and down the road to the school since it is only a fifteen minute walk from our house. Not too long after, we arrive at the school, and we begin what seems like a repeated routine that does not end. Walk up to first class, and cue the teacher that does not call anyone by their first name.

“Almost late again, are we, Miss Winters?”

“Sorry, Mrs April.”

“Time your mornings better, Miss Winters.”

“Yes ma’am.”

After first class comes second class with the teacher that tries to be everyone’s friend.

“Did you sleep well last night, Juliet?”

“Yes I did, Mr Jones.”

“That’s good. Remember, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always here.”

“Thank you.”

Those are the only two types of teachers at the school, the friendly ones and the not-so-friendly ones. It does not bother the students too much. The students need to generate gossip somehow.

The rest of the school day went by normally, except that the students with cell-phones were getting messages left and right during last class. Unfortunately, the teacher of the class was one of the unfriendly teachers.

“What is with all of the cell-phones going off during class?” He asked, trying to contain his frustrations.

A student spoke up, saying something I did not think I would ever hear. “They are evacuating the town.”