Band of Brothers

I suppose it shouldn't be much of a surprise that I became a ghost. My name is translated to 'One Who Will Rise Again'. Irony, oh the irony... I'm sure my parents weren't counting on that when they named me. Speaking of my parents, I should probably tell you a little more about my backround.

I was born in Los Angeles in 1989. My parents were good to me, I didn't have one of those childhoods that left me scarred for life or anything. And I was the youngest of four. And as luck would have it, my three older siblings were all boys that lived to make my life miserable (when they weren't threatening any boy I brought home that is). My oldest brother was graced with a strange name, since my parents obviously weren't thinking clearly when they decided on the name Romulus (Rom, for short.) He was five years older than me, so he would be 27 or so now. And then there were the twins. Luckily in the three years between Rom and the twins, my parents had settled on some more normal names. Simon was six minutes older than Sebastian, and the pair of them were two years older than me.


I miss them all the time, even though they picked on me all the time when we were younger. It feels like there is an emptyness inside of me without ever being able to make contact with my family. Sometimes I pop in on them (literally I pop in on them, when I think about a person or place too much I end up there) and I just watch them. Romulus is off on his own, with a wife and a baby on the way. He is a lawyer, but he still finds time to take his wife off to dinner and rub her back when they are laying in bed. He is so different now than the boy I knew.


And the identical twins have separated for the first time in their lives (sure they had been apart for small things, but they had always ended up in the same room in the same house.) Sebastian moved to France, and is a successful owner of a French bistro. He is currently dating some girl, but it doesn't seem very serious. And Simon is working as a journalist, traveling around and rarely staying in one place for more than a week. Sometimes when I am visiting on of the twins, I can see how much they miss the other one. Its like they have been ripped in two, and are now forced to live with only half a body, and half a soul. I can relate... I feel like I am only half here. I'm somehow clinging to this world, yet I am not a part of it.


Well, more on that later. Maya has just started crying, most likely from another nightmare (this is becoming an almost nightly occurence here, which means its even harder for me to blog with the adults getting up to comfort her). Keep reading, please. Ask me questions, give me a reason to keep holding on to this world, because sometimes it feels like I'm hanging by a thread. And I'm off to delete the history so Grant doesn't see that his computer has been used for my blogging purposes. Bye guys!

~A Nostalgic Ghost~