This is a fictional piece I've been playing around with. I'm not sure where I'm going with this story. I'm not even sure that this is the beginning. It could very well be somewhere in the middle. For now, I just want to see where the story takes me. Thanks for coming along.
They were not twins but she had always dressed them alike. The older girl was two years older than her younger sister. She had never really wanted children, yet she had given birth to six of her own. The two girls were the last of the lot. There were two older daughters and a son. The other boy would only grace this world a few months. It had almost broken her. But she managed along for the sake of the others. Being the eldest of nine siblings, she had grown up being nurse mate to her younger sisters and brothers. That was when she had secretly decided she would never have children. Why should I? she thought. Mama is too busy nursing the new baby to worry about any of these. These meaning the younger siblings she had helped to raise. They never went to mama when they scraped a knee or had a cough. They came to me! Why do I keep going over this in my head. It's like ancient history now. "Ma? Why do we have to dress alike? We're not t w i n s, you know." the older girl protested. "I know, but it keeps down confusion." she said.
She had come to this town at 19. Just married and far away from home. She hadn't wanted to marry him. But they gave her no choice. They, meaning her parents. They would rather have her marry a man she didn't love, than to risk the chance of embarrassment.