I've always been a heavy sleeper. I suppose no one enjoys waking up early but I've always felt terrible when I can't get enough sleep. It didn't help that my mother and sister always woke me up early even on weekends just cause they didn't want me "sleeping all day". It's always been just been just the three of us so I guess I can understand that maybe they wanted me around for family activities but it was making me really annoyed. So I figured out a way to get away with sleeping in. Being the only one handy with a computer in the household helped. After some late night research I figured out how to edit a Wikipedia entry with some professional sounding bullshit, making it look like I had a rare condition that made me a very heavy sleeper, and that waking up someone with said condition too early could be harmful to their health. I faked some of the "symptoms" for a few weeks and then showed mom the article. I told her the school nurse had tipped me off on the rare condition, and while it wasn't all that dangerous it was proof that I should be left to sleep as long as I wanted when possible.
This all started a few years ago. I can remember that first morning like it was yesterday. It was my sister's alarm clock that started it all. Yea, you can blame it on the alarm.
Joey and I grew up very close, as close as two twins could be. We shared everything, our joy, or heartache, and our pain. When we were younger, before we understood the differences between our genders, we used to try to switch places. Once we hit our teens, things began to change. Joey hit puberty hard. One day he was the same old Joey and the next his voice was lower and he started spending a lot of time in the bathroom. I on the other hand hit puberty about a year after him and it happened gradually. I noticed that I was starting to get bumps on my chest so I went to mother and told her. The next day we went to the store and bought a training bra.
It's been two years since I've seen my dad and his side of the family. I step out the door in my pink, black and white knee-long dress with my suitcase in hand. I turn around and lock the door behind me and then watch as my dad pulls up in his old, beaten up, red station wagon. I set down my suitcase and smile as I run up to my dad, giving him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. Then I hurry to the other side of the car, greeting both my step-mom and her son, Dan. Dan helps me get my things into the trunk and we all get into the car to start the 45 minute drive home. Dan gaped at my body, staring me down head to toe and back again. I'm not the 'cute' little sister I used to be.