Prologue When my mom was seventeen, she was graduating from high school, the star of the soccer team, and school president. When my dad was seventeen, he was in his first of many years of college, a frat star, and top of his class. And when I, daughter of scientists, sister of a beauty queen, turned seventeen? What happened? That, dear reader is the million dollar question. Everyone wants to know what happened to Olympia Winters. I don't know what happened myself. Hell, I didn't even know myself when I turned seventeen. I knew where I lived- 027 Blackcreek Lane, who my friends were- Greyson, who was as sunny as his name suggests, and Xenua, who was... Xenua, and what I looked like- black hair to my waist, pale skin, and washed out grey eyes. I didn't know what was inside though. I wasn't aware I was a monster... I didn't even know how to hold a gun. I'm getting ahead of myself, the real deal started when I turned fifteen, two measly years before.
Chapter 1 part 1 My twin sister, Tyson, and I turned fifteen exactly one month before high school started. I guess this is where the issue started. Tyson and I were best friends as well as sisters. We were identical in looks, except for slight differences like my hair was straighter and her eyes were bluer, and fashion sense. We both strived to fit in. I sung, Tyson accompanied me on piano. Tyson played lacrosse, so did I. We both made honor roll every year since third grade. Then something seemingly pointless happened... Greyson moved in next door bringing his gloomy but intriguing presence with him. Well, I found his black jeans and band shirts intriguing. Tyson wrinkled her button nose in the way that was always more attractive on her than me and muttered, "he reeks of motor oil, bad pot, and head banger music." Needless to say, she stayed inside picking at the low-fat gluten-free birthday cake while I walked over to introduce myself. Greyson and I's first interaction when something like this: Me: "Hey! I'm Olympia, I live next door." Greyson: "I'm Greyson, currently suffering from life." Me: "That's a wonderful outlook." Greyson: "I know." Me: "Yea." Greyson: "Yup." Sounds like BFFLs at first sight, doesn't it? It might have started off rather shaky, but it wasn't for long. --- A week after meeting Greyson, he introduced me to my first alt. rock band, Dex Gets Schooled. He got into it, playing the air guitar as he stood on the cab of his rusty, untrusted Ford truck. I remember how his dyed black hair flipped back and I saw his liquid gold eyes for the first time. I knew, at that moment, I was in love. With the band and the genre and everything my parents were against.
Let me have the pleasure of listing what exactly my parents were against: •excessive drug use •overuse of their favorite four letter word •murdering puppies •Greyson Samuel Riverson the fifth, even if his name sounded that regal •Cheap makeup •Combat boots •Multiple ear/ facial piercings •Any band that featured guys with eyeliner •Tattoos Minus murdering puppies and excessive drug use, I slowly morphed into my parents worst nightmare. I swapped my Mruno Bars and Party Harder Katy for Death Snail, Champions of Nothing, and Scales. I quit lacrosse to pick up martial arts. My wardrobe was given to Tyson and replaced with band tees, skinny jeans, Bans shoes, and men's button downs stolen from Greyson's closet (the kid smelled like heaven, lay off). I dropped my "popular" friends for Greyson and his band, The One Two Go. --- On the first day of school, Tyson didn't acknowledge me once we got out of our mom's sleek minivan, yes, our mom could rock a minivan. She took off in her designer booty shorts, push up tank top, and heels that should've came with insurance to embrace her circle of identical friends. I don't remember how I got through my first day. I've blocked it all out. At lunch Greyson ushered me towards a table of upperclassmen dressed in black jeans arguing about a band called Junki versus a deathcore band Greyson forced upon me a week before.