Aletha checked her reflection in the mirror. Startling grey eyes stared back, analyzing her reflection. With a flick of her hair, Aletha smiled and turned. But before she walked out of the room, something shining in the sunlight filtering through the window caught her eye.
It was a book. A very old, dusty book. The binding was fragile, but the gold trimmed pages gleamed like they had been polished yesterday. In fancy gold font across the book was one word:
Aletha picked up the book. She held it gingerly, not really sure what to expect, then she opened the book. Dust. Flew as the pages settled. To Aletha's surprise, the book was empty, except for one picture that was staring up at her now.
It was a photo of her family. Her Dad, who died 2 years ago, her brother, who ran away and was never seen again, and her mother, who abandon them without a trace. Aletha ran her fingers over her mother's face.
"You looked exactly like her." said a voice behind her. Aletha whirled around to see a boy, older than her, maybe 18 or 19, with honey blonde hair like hers and bright blue eyes that held more sadness than the river of tears streaming down her face now.
It was the boy from the photo. It was her brother.