After a hearty dinner of Irish nachos ( without bacon on them ), Joey ignoring me, and Maiméo complaining about how her neighbor's kids Declan and Dillon ( who were twins boys a year younger then me ) being too loud when they were playing football in their lawn, I procrastinated downstairs and wandered from room to room. The house was decorated in great taste with layers of gorgeous blues, whites, and greys. Therefore, I knew my grandmother hadn't been involved in the interior design. I had looked in her room for towels and accidentally opened her closet. All I can say about the matter is that it was horrifying. In the guest room (which was in the very back of the front hall), there was a beautiful, old, antique dresser made of shining, orange-tinted, striped wood. The mirror was blackening at the edges and a small, jagged chunk of mirror about the size of my hand was gone in the lower left corner. A few small cracks and shatters surrounded the empty, organic-shaped spot. The opposite corner was covered by a framed and faded picture. Curiously, I picked up the picture. A couple, a beer-belled man with a red mop and a thick beard and a tight-faced woman with her hair pulled up into a bun, was surrounded by four lively looking children inside of the frame. There were three small boys and one little girl. They were ordered by height and, assumingly, by age. The pattern of gender ended up as boy, boy, girl, boy. The girl looked suspiciously like other pictures I had seen of my grandmother as a kid, which made me confused.

My Maiméo, Grandma Nereida, only had two older brothers. I flipped the picture frame over in my hands, pulling it open and taking out the picture. I folded the paper-like material and pushed it into my pocket, leaving the frame on the dresser. I glanced at the broken part of the mirror one last time before leaving the room. 

I wandered my way back upstairs, glancing into Joey's room as I passed, seeing him on his laptop with Bohemia and Asahi sprawled out with him on his king sized bed. He scowled at me and I rolled my eyes. He stuck up his middle finger at me and I huffed audibly, stomping the rest of the way to my room. I took the picture out of my shorts and slid it into the jewelry box I had relocated to my nightstand. I felt like Nancy Drew. As a kid I had read those books with all the hopes and dreams of being just like her. But now I wanted to be an artist over a detective. I preferred listening to classical music at home over throwing myself in dangerous situations, although I could be reckless just like my childhood idol.

I grabbed my book off my dresser, pulling one of the cream-colored, fluffy blankets over my head and around me, beginning to read. In no time, I was asleep on my book.

"In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty, I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone. She wheeled her wheel barrow through streets broad and narrow, crying "'Cockles and and mussels alive, alive oh! Alive, alive, oh! Alive, alive, oh!"' Crying "'Cockles and mussels alive, alive, oh!"' A voice gave words to the tune the music box had played. The singing was haunting but beautiful. I wandered through the fog, looking for the owner of the voice. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face as I pushed through the mist. I could tell I was barefoot, solely from the sharp, wet, rock under my feet.

"Hello?" I called out, nearly slipping on the rock and feeling my left foot cut opened on a sharp shard of rock. But I didn't care, mind before matter. I still trudged on through the still thickening fog. 

"Hello Aofie, you look gorgeous." The voice, oh god the voice, it made my heart ache. I wanted, I didn't know what I wanted. I needed to find that voice. 

"Where are you?" I called out into the whiteness, somehow unafraid. I still stepped on, blood leaking from the bottom of my foot. Mind before matter. I didn't feel any pain.

"I'm right here." The voice came from underneath me and I fell. I fell into the freezing water.

I jumped up out of bed as the window next to me wavered. Something had hit my window, making a loud noise and causing the glass to shake in its frame. I grabbed my phone, accidentally pull the charging cord with it, turning on my flashlight and shining it against the panes then pushing my face up against the cold glass. Two blonde boys with flashlights stood below my window, one of them with a soccer ball stuck under his arm. The boy without the soccer ball waved at me, beckoning me outside. I assumed these were the twins Maiméo was talking about earlier and I hesitated. But per usual, my curiosity got the best of me.

I yawned, yanking the charging chord out of my phone for real that time. I grabbed the cream blanket (yes, the one that had been wrapped around me) from the floor and put it over my shoulders before making my way outside the front door where the boys had traveled to wait for me. 

"Hey, you're the granddaughter, right? Aofie, right?" The taller of the two twins (the one without the soccer ball) asked and I nodded. He smiled at me. "I'm Declan."

"Dillon." The other one grunted, scuffing his shoe in the dirt.

"Nice to meet y-"

"Wow, you really are American. Mum told us you were, but like Jesus Christ." That was Declan

"And you're really fucking Irish. Con-fucking-grats you have ears." I needed my beauty sleep and they were interrupting it.

"You're a little bitch, aren't you?" Dillon sneered, tossing the ball up in the air, he was about to catch it, but I reached out and grabbed it before he could. He gave me a dirty look and I smirked hautily at him. 

"You fucking know it. I don't particularly enjoy when two complete fucking strangers wake me up at midnight." I looked between them putting a hand on my hip to enforce my anger. 

"Football, soccer whatever you Americans call it, tomorrow. At noon." Declan held his hands up to catch the ball and I threw it to him.

"See you then, LB." Dillon turned and followed his brother. 

AN: What do you think about mirror? And the picture? What happened to Nereida's youngest brother? Will Joey and Aofie ever get along? Do you like Declan and Dillon? Will Aofie end up friends with the twins? Also what's going on with Aofie's dream and the song???

It's still only kind of edited but not really cause I'm a lazy bum sorry not sorry cause I'm a superstar lolololololol I'm on a sugar high sorry adios 

Love, your favorite printer that's run out of ink,

Laurel ❤