To Atlantis and Back

Have you ever wondered, in the darkest of moments, that your whole life has been a lie?

That, at the bottom of the ocean, there could lie a whole new civilisation, that none of us knew about?

And that even your twin, who you've trusted with your life, has betrayed you?

Because I've thought about it.

I've sat on the coast, wondering why they would do this to me.

And I'm determined to find out.


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2. Noah: The Drought

 

I can’t stand hot weather. And we’ve had it for months. No rain. Not a single drop. Just the unbearable heat. Pulsing; crawling over my skin. Making me sweat like a horse.  Every-day, I look up to the sky, and wish with all my being for the rain to finally come. And when clouds do make themselves known, they just thin out and disappear.  Yesterday, when the clouds hung heavy over the ocean, we were hopeful.                                                                                

'Yes!’ We said.                                                                                                                                                                                                  

‘The drought is over! The rain has come!’ We said.                                                                                                                                           But right there, in the ocean, it started raining. 

Plop, plop, plop.

‘All those wasted drops,’ We said.                                                                                                                                                  

 'All our dying crops.’ We said. 

The mosquitos are the worst. When I finally get to sleep at night, I only wake up in the morning to find myself covered in itchy bites. Sophia, of course, has not even a nip. Not one.                 

My twin, Sophia, is perfect in every way possible. With sleek-ice blonde hair that goes down to her waist, and Sapphire blue eyes that no one can seem to meet, it’s natural that she’s the popular one. She’s always got the nice, new clothes, that everyone wants. She’s always had the perfect complexion that no spot cream can offer.                                                                        

She will always be the light. 

And I will always be her shadow. 

Because, the truth is, is that I’m nothing like my sister. 

  The first difference is our gender. She’s a girl, I’m a boy. Then there’s our names; Sophia, Noah. Don’t sound similar. Don’t look it either. While she has glowing, clean hair, mine seems to be in a constantly muddy and tangled state. While she has a distinctive fashion that everybody follows, I wear the kind of clothes, that look as if they’ve been fished out of a jumble sale. While she has the kind of pale, smooth skin a plastic surgeon would die for, I have bumpy,  slightly darker skin that is no where near perfect. 

The only feature I like better than any of hers are my pewter eyes.

Pewter eyes.

Not one member of my family has pewter eyes like me. 

I've looked through my family history, I've looked through the abandoned photo albums that collect dust in the attic. Hell, I've even looked on Ancestry.co.uk,and still, my family's eye colours range from brown, to blue.

It's like I'm related to another family entirely.  

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