The Foretelling

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Sixteen years ago, 8th October 1984, my sister and I were born. Five minutes may seem insignificant, but to my mother it was the equivalent to doing the splits on a crate of dynamite. The fact that she was sixteen when she gave birth to us, made her story sound more dramatic. 

I have never been keen or interested in guys, only my movies, music and books. I'm similar in that way to Rory. That similarity disappeared on the night of our sixteenth birthday part extravaganza thrown by Sookie and my eccentric mother who I adore. 

I walked into the worn kitchen where I spotted my mother staring out the window worriedly while clenching onto a tea towel. Walking over to her I look over her shoulder to see what she was staring at. 

My jaw almost dropped onto her shoulder after seeing what I saw. Rory was outside in the dark with a tall, mysterious sixteen year old boy. He handed her a present that was followed quickly with them holding hands and Rory blushing. 

"She's a good kid mum. She's not going to get pregnant or ride out on his motorcycle, he's too tall to be James Dean. For what it's worth you have me, the spinster daughter who looks after mama." I whisper into her ear. 

She looks over at me gratefully and hugs me tightly. "Thanks kid," she whispers back. 

Little did I know that I would be falling for the town's bad boy. 

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