A/N I started a story ages ago, but I got fed up with it, because I felt it was too cliché. So, I've tried out al sorts of twists, and I believe I have thought of a more original idea. Or at least I hope it sounds original. So this final idea, has ended up completely different from my original story. The only thing that is mildly the same, are the characters. This first chapter may seem a bit weird, but give it a go! I'll try to update as often as possible, because I have the whole story more or less planned out, so writing it shouldn't take all that long. Sorry for rambling, so here we go! Enjoy! Love DustEyes xx

I guess my always being treated differently wasn't exactly a revelation. I always knew what to expect from people as soon as I was old enough to understand the condition I was born with. I look and act just like any other sixteen-year-old girl, but because of what I am, people set me apart. They do this all because I'm mute, like I can't speak, you know? Pause for reaction. When people find out this insignificant detail of my life, they always do the following. First, their eyes will widen and they begin to look uncomfortable speaking to me. After a bit of stuttering, on their part obviously, they proceed to speak to me as if I'm an old lady. I'm mute! Not deaf! Jeez.

Being mute doesn't set me back at anything. I love music, reading and movies. If you cross out the whole mute thing, I'm just like every other teenage girl...except for my slightly off fashion sense, but that's not the point!

How I became mute you may ask? Well, I couldn't be bothered explaining al the medical terms, so long story short. I was born with disfigured vocal chords. It's not like I've got a whole "Hunchback of Notre Dame" thing going on, on my neck. Nah, I look pretty normal on the outside. So, there's nothing else that's particularly strange about me. People just seem to decide that because I can't speak, I immediately get thrown in the invisible pile.

Anyways, a few years back, treatment became available for my condition. It consisted of a group of small, but highly expensive, operations, and following therapy to master speech...also expensive. My family isn't poor, but we can't exactly afford something like that. There was a charity we could have applied to, but I refused for some very valid reasons. There are people who need the help of that charity way more than I do. I get by just fine. And also, I guess I want to prove that I can get the treatment myself, without any help. Just another thing I have to do. Most girls my age would be putting money away for a car, or to help with university, but me? I'm saving for my treatment all on my own. In a few years, I'll be able to afford the beginnings of it, so what's the point in wasting a charity's money. A few extra years is hardly going to kill me.

So, where exactly does my story begin? It starts at a rather fitting moment - the move. I lived in Londonderry for just over sixteen years. For those of you who don't have google maps close at hand, Londonderry is in the west of Northern Ireland. Were moving a few hours drive to the east to Belfast, the capital of Northern Ireland. My mum, Alison, was offered a better job out there, so she took it without hesitation. I didn't mind the move at all. It was an appealing idea to have a change of scenery, besides, no friends at my old school, so who was I going to miss? No one. Tom, my twin brother, on the other hand, did have friends, so understandably he was a tad peeved about the move, but he soon cheered up when he heard we were going to be living in a slightly bigger house, because of the better pay mum would be getting. Back in Londonderry, Tom and I had to share a room. Not good, as you can imagine, I spent most of my time wrapped up in the back garden, avoiding Tom's friends. I'm not saying he's a bad guy, we're close, we look out for each other, but that doesn't cover the fact that we're polar opposites. He's into all the chart music, I prefer those little acoustic, indie bands that no ones heard of. We're like toast and ketchup, nothing in common. Oh! Almost forgot, the name's Eva Benson.

"Eva!" I was leaning casually against the door of our jam-packed car, when the sound of my name jolted me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see my mum, walking slowly to the moving trailer, attached to the back of our car. She was struggling with the last box in her arms. I trotted over and grabbed one side off it before she dropped it.

Once the box had been heaved into the trailer, and mum had locked it, she shouted out for Tom, who was at the bottom of the drive doing some awkward guy-goodbye thing with his "mates" as he calls them.

They walked off in a group leaving Tom shouting "Later!" after them.

While he was occupied with friends, I took the opportunity to run to the left side of the car, and tap the passenger door loudly twice - my own way of calling shotgun.

Tom looked up at me with irritation framing his green eyes, which we both shared. He groaned and said in a tired, whiney voice, "Eva, this is gonna' be like over a two hour drive in the morning traffic. Come on, cut me some slack." He smiled his sweet older-by-two-seconds brother smile that he saved when he wanted something from me. I smirked at him and shrugged my shoulders, before hopping into the front seat of the car and quickly sticking my tongue out at him and closing the door.

"Fine," He muttered in a sulky tone, "but I get choice of music." We acted like four-year-olds to each other, but that's the way we are. Brother and sister. Destined to annoy the crap out of each other.

***

"Okay!" My mum said when we were coming close to our neighborhood. "I want both of you to help unpack, and then we'll have lunch. Eva, no mucking about on your guitar or keyboard until we're finished." Mum looked at me, her eyebrows raised. I rolled my eyes in answer. "And Tom, same for you, except no computer. You've been gone for a few hours, I'm sure the internet can wait until we finish unpacking."

I turned my head back down to the book I was reading. Yes, I like to read in the car, and no, it does not give me motion sickness.

I was almost settled back into my book when mum piped up again, "This is our street!" I let the book drop to my feet and I looked out the car window. A smile crept up on my face. This looked like a nice area. Huge oaks lined the street, their roots cracking the pavement, but not in a sinister way. The huge green leaves covered the street, and acted like a giant, over-head, stained glass window. Each house looked different, like each had it's own personality. Kids were playing in the small, but neat gardens. A few people were walking down the footpath with excited look dogs. Everyone here looked rather friendly

"Oh. This looks great!" Mum spoke again. I nodded, my smile becoming more prominent. She was driving slowly now, looking at each house in turn so she didn't miss ours. Her eyes glued to one house in particular, "This is it." She nodded towards the next house on our left, and I began to feel excited as Tom leant forward, leaning on my headrest.

That's when I saw the house, the only word that came to mind was perfect.

A/N okay, I dunno. Tell me what you think? Is the whole mute idea stupid? I like it, but let me know! Review please :) DustEyes xx