The Most Important Story Ever (the beginning).

Some stories should only be told once. Other stories should never be
told at all. This is a story I could tell one thousand times and it
would always be different. The beauty of it isn't in the details, but
it is there. It is a sad story, a happy story, and a twisted story. It
is about two girls with the same name. Two very sad girls whose life's
at fifteen had already been so many terrible things. Terrible things
that they never even talked about but somehow understood. They were
the best and worst thing to happen to each other. They were the
other's savior and the other's damnation and they never knew it until
it was entirely too late.

We were born on the same cold winter day. One in the heartland, the
other on the west coast. We were our parent's first children. The
unwanted, unintended, certainly not planned, ones. They named us after
a soap opera character. They read us books and they moved us around
the country.

And by some sort of fate we stood next to each other, hiding is a
port-a-pottie in the middle of a soccer field while the rest of our
classmates participated in the earth day clean up. Staring into a
beautiful face not belong to us. Her white blond hair floating to her
shoulders, her ice blue eyes staring back from her porcelain face at
the deep black ones hiding behind wisps of brown bangs. From that day
forward, we were a singular unit. We kissed the same boys, sometimes
at the same time, we applied to the same colleges, we ate the same
things. On Friday's we wore matching outfits. We didn't need anyone
else and everyone knew that. Girls hated us, boys wanted to be in the
middle of us.

We were smart, too smart. We were manipulative and conniving. And one
day we turned on each other, except we were always fighting against
each other but never knew it. We wanted what the other one had,
always.

This is the beginning of that story. Those are the things you need to know.