The American Dream

I woke up one day to the sunlight piercing through my window. It looked like I had woken up in heaven, then I realized it was a Friday and that I had to get up for school. I spread out like a starfish to stretch, but I was interrupted by my twin brother’s scream.

“Ahh!” He yelled, stretching out in his bed.

“Jaylen, shut up!” I yell, sitting up from my bed.

Jaylen’s my identical twin so we basically look the same. Jaylen was a brown skin black man. Jaylen had plump lips, a large button nose, and round slightly hooded eyes. Jaylen and I have special abilities. Jaylen can control the earth on the right side of his body and air on the left side of his body. Along with his hair, on the right side, Jaylen’s eye is bright green. On the left side, along with his hair, Jaylen’s eye is completely white. His hair is so long, he keeps it in a man bun.

“I can’t stretch out?” Jaylen asked, also sitting up.

“You can, but you’re ruining my zen,” I replied.

Me on the other hand, I look exactly the same. Although, I control fire on the left side of my body and water on the right side of my body. Both my hair and eyes are red on my left side and blue on my right side. Because my hair is so long, I keep them up in two space buns to separate the colors. Besides our abilities, our difference is our height. I’m five feet seven inches, but he’s five feet nine inches. It’s the only thing he can hold over me since I’m two minutes older than he is.

“Zen? I think this place has rubbed off on you” Jaylen told me as he got up from his bed. Our room is all white, with no color. But our mom let us put up a few posters.

“It’s not like Washington was such a great place,” I reply, also getting up to head over to the kitchen. My family and I lived in Washington until my brother and I were ten, but we moved to Nevada after my dad died in the war.

“Washington was a wonderful place, now sit down and eat,” My mom said, cutting into the conversation.

“Sorry mom,” Jaylen replied as we both sat down at the table to eat our breakfast.

Frankie Watson, our mother. A widow who never remarried. After the death of my father, my mom lost it. She thought it would be best for us to move to Nevada for a fresh start, even though none of us wanted to leave. Not even her. It’s been seven years and I still hold a grudge.

“So, when are you guys going to get a job?” Our mother asked, looking down at her food. I looked at Jaylen, I can tell he didn’t want to answer the question since it’s been brought up so many times.

“We can’t balance school and home at the same time mom,” I said, looking at her.

“What do you do at home?” My mother asked, looking up at me. I can tell she was tired.

“Cook, clean. Everything you can’t do because you’re working two jobs,” I replied, irritated.

“I did…” My mother started to say, but I cut her off before she could finish her sentence.

“I know you did that as a kid, but we don’t get home until four o clock, we don’t finish our homework until six. We have to cook dinner, clean the house, and clean the kitchen. We barely have time for ourselves because we have to go to sleep to do it again the next day. We only get weekends,” I said, chewing her ear off. “And those get taken up once a month anyway”.

I didn’t realize how much I was taking until I’d stopped. But Jaylen felt the need to add something in.

“At least you get to see Shawn,” He said, smiling.

“Shut up” I replied, slightly nudging him.

“Speaking of, we have a bread run tomorrow, so we’re leaving early tomorrow morning,” My mom said, looking up at us. After about, five more minutes, I finished my breakfast, and Jaylen was almost done.

“Dibs on the shower!” I yelled, rushing to the sink.

“That’s not fair,” Jaylen replied, also rushing to the sink.

“I called it,” I say, rushing to the bathroom.

“Mom!” Jaylen yelled, looking at our mom.

“She called it,” She replied, smiling. It’s times like these where I can tolerate her.

We drive to Idaho every month for two loaves of bread, even though bread gets sent to the store. My dad started that tradition. I remember I was seven years old, and I asked my dad why we went so far just to get bread. He replied with, “I like driving, I get to see what the world has to offer. Jamie, sometimes it’s not about the destination but the journey”. That same day I met a good friend of mine. Every month since then, we took that journey as a family. After my father died, mom thought it was only right to continue the tradition. I’m 17 now.

I got into the shower, put on an outfit for school, and put my hair up. I decided to wear high-rise denim shorts with a black belt, and a white t-shirt that was tucked in. I put my hair into two space buns and put on white high top sneakers. After I finished getting ready, I sat on the couch and waited for Jaylen. After about ten minutes, Jaylen comes outside of the bedroom.

“Let’s go,” I say, standing up from the couch.

“Ok,” Jaylen replied, grabbing his bag.

“Bye,” My mom said.

“Bye,” I replied, I didn’t want to say goodbye, but I didn’t want to be rude. My brother and I leave the house and head off to school.

“Why don’t you like mom?” Jaylen asked me. I never really liked answering this question when it came up, but I do anyway, and I never really know why.

“She uprooted our whole family, moved us to a different state, and even after we do all of the work around the house, she calls us lazy,” I replied.

“But she’s still our mother,” Jaylen responded, looking at me.

“Not anymore Jaylen, we lost our mother a long time ago,” I replied. To be honest, I was right. After dad died, mom was never the same.

“Just give her a chance,” Jaylen stated.

“I’ll try,” I replied. I wasn’t really going to try, but I wanted to say that just to make Jay happy.