Somewhere in London, and I'm not going to tell you exactly where, but somewhere there is a roof. And on that roof is a chair. This chair is there because this roof is the place that I go when I need to breathe. Now, don't worry, I don't mean that I can only breathe there, like that rooftop is the only place in the world where the oxygen is just right for my respiratory system - although that would make quite a good story... I mean, when I need to take a breather and take a step away from my life for a while. And yes, I'm quite aware that this is a strange thing to do. I do want to explain to you why I do this, but you're not allowed to judge me. Promise? Okay. I am a twin. That isn't me bragging, it's just fairly pivotal to the story. Anyway. I am a twin, and last year, my twin brother went missing. He went out the night before our birthday with his girlfriend and he just didn't come back. There is CCTV of him seeing her onto the train at Covent Garden Tube station, but then he leaves the station and doesn't show back up. And so when I woke up on our birthday and skipped to his room to wake him up for our birthday pancakes, only to find that he wasn't there, I was quite frankly, pissed. I know, I know, I sound positively heartless, but at this point, he wasn't missing to us, I just assumed that he'd stayed the night at his girlfriends place. Which would have broken our rule. Which we set up as children and had maintained up until this point. So I was mad and I stormed back into my room and tried to text him, then remembered that his phone was broken. Brilliant. We didn't realize that he was actually missing until midday when his girlfriend rang the house to tell him Happy Birthday. She told us what time he'd left her and we called the police and then a useless "investigation" was carried out, but they didn't find him and neither did I. If you're not a twin, you won't be able to comprehend how hard it is to lose one. My world stopped that day and I didn't know how to cope. My entire life had been shared with him and then he was gone. I completely spiraled into a depression and when it finally got too much, I decided to end it all. I walked around for a while trying to decide how to do it. That probably sounds super morbid. Sorry. But it's the truth. I decided that jumping off of a building was how I wanted to go. I could step off and for a moment I'd be flying. I knew a building that would suit. It was an office building, but there was a fire escape that ran all around the edge of the building so it was easy to get up to the roof. Don't get me wrong, there was a locked gate at the top, but I learned how to pick locks when I was a kid, so it was easy for me. I was windy up on that building. Really really windy. My hair was blowing all over my face and getting in my mouth and it didn't really help me if truth be told. I marched over the edge of the building, and hoisted myself onto the ledge. Then I just sat there. For the longest time I sat there. Legs dangling, 60 stories off of the ground, the wind blowing, and out in front of me was the greatest city in the world. The lights were beautiful, and the entire city seemed to glow. And I remember that all I could think, was that my brother is out there somewhere. And I knew it with such conviction, because I was sure that if he'd have died, I would have felt it. I stayed on the ledge a little bit longer, but then I made a vow to find my brother. I swung my legs back over and jumped back down onto the roof.
You might be wondering about the chapter title, how it's named "the first miracle", and you could be thinking that a miracle didn't really happen. I went to the top of a building to kill myself and then I didn't kill myself and I came back down. You might think it was more to do with cowardice. But I wasn't a coward, I genuinely would have killed myself, but what if my brother came home and I was dead? There was a door on the roof, like a sort of fire escape for people inside the building. It was painted with this glossy white paint and even that was sparking under the light of the moon and I decided I'd write my vow, right there on the door. I always had a sharpie in my bag, and it came in quite handy that night as I wrote my vow on the door: "19th May 2011. Georgina Helena Quinn did not jump off of this building. I have until the 19th May 2012 to find Frederick Albert Quinn, after which time, she shall continue with her life, or end it" Now, you're probably thinking one of two things.
1) "Good use of 1st person and 3rd person Georgina" - I am aware that this vow was terribly written, but my mind wasn't quite with me was it?
2) "You and you're twin brother are essentially called Fred and George" - yes. This is not a Harry Potter reference, this is mere coincidence, but it did make the books more special to us. So, there it was...written down on a door on a roof of a building in London waiting for me to come back and throw myself off, or not. This was a miracle. I didn't die that night. I walked back down those stairs and onto an empty street and went back to my family. It was, the first miracle.