I'm a...Twin?!

Chapter 11

Air flew from underneath me as I did exactly what my father had ordered me to do: run. The problem I had was I didn't exactly know where to run and if Andrew was with Zemlicka looking for me, my chances of hiding from them were very slim, since Andrew could do any power I could do.

The closet, a little voice sang in my mind and that was all I needed as I went through the many walls and floors of the house to get to the room of my twin's and mine. The idea was brilliant, seen as how all my clothes were neatly hung in the closet and there were pockets galore to hop around and hide in. I hadn't ever tried it before, but shrinking myself was more then likely a definite possibility.

As I approached the closet, I let the energy sprint out of my fingertips, jumping right for the pant pocket of my favorite jeans. The sight was brilliant, watching the jeans turn into such large pants that I couldn't even see the top of them as my body soared for the pocket. Everything surrounding me looked like it had just had a shot of adrenaline as it flew up to the sky and I shrank into the size of a little baby Polly Pocket.

I landed right in the pocket and instantly began to nestle my body into it, looking for any escape possible from my twin and his evil captor. How could I have been so stupid not to realize that my twin was calling me just for that reason, only to discover my father's secret hideout. I had ruined it for my father and I felt so incredibly guilty. Way to go, Alleah, I told myself. Way to go.

It seemed like a lifetime in that dark and dreary pocket, waiting for Zemlicka to come and attempt another kidnapping. I was determined not to let him get away with it, but sometimes I wondered if that was the only way to get Andrew back, to spend more time with him so I could convince him who he really was. He didn't even look a thing like that old haggard and for him to not be able to see that was unbelievable. I didn't even want to know what other lies Zemlicka had fed my brother in his childhood years.

"Brent Smith, I demand you to tell me where your daughter is!" Zemlicka roared, obviously ticked off that he couldn't find me after searching through every inch of the first five or so floors. The fact that he was trying so hard to find me was a little bit humorous in itself, but at the same time it couldn't be good.

"Zemlicka, I told you, she does whatever she wants. For all I know, she could be outside playing on the beach. It's very likely."

"Brent, she's not out there and you know it," Zemlicka growled, his dark voice getting frequently louder as they entered my room. "Don't play stupid with me."

"Well, maybe I wouldn't if...," I heard my dad say so quietly that even I barely heard it. Dang, these little ears were nice.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing," my father said, the smirk on his face being obvious by the tone of his voice.

"Whatever, Brent," Zemlicka sighed, followed by the rolling of my dresser drawers as he opened them up. Gosh, I hope he wasn't finding any embarrassing things in there.

"Call for her, Brent. She will most likely come to you," Zemlicka whispered as he slammed the bottom drawer on my dresser.

"Yes, because children answer to their fathers," my father snorted loudly, amused by Zemlicka's desperate request. "Really, Zemlicka? Really?"

"Do it Brent, or you'll be sorry!" Zemlicka hissed. I had to hold my mouth myself to keep from laughing out loud. How stupid did he think I really was?

"Yeah, okay. Alleah, honey? Daddy has a present for you," he called. I could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

Long and awkward silence. "Well, looks like she's not here," my father said, his footsteps trailing toward the door. "Perhaps she's in my room? Girls hide in their daddy's rooms, eh?"