Excerpt from The Pomegranate Prophecy
(copyright 2017, Bulen Bell Press)
The Memory Thief
I had stolen a memory. It was awful, like the feeling you get when someone shows you a picture of yourself that you didn’t know had been taken. Only worse because the memory was inside of me, part of me, even though it wasn’t mine.
We had gone to Brighton that morning because when it’s summer in New York, it’s pretty much illegal not to go to the beach. Just the three of us went: me and my twin brothers. Actually, we’re triplets, so when I say my twin brothers, I mean that they are identical twins. We still get a lot of stares because even though I’m a girl, we look pretty similar. I wear my black hair short, like a punk rock Tinkerbell. Plus, even though I’m seventeen, I have what’s called a “boyish” figure. So, that’s awesome.
We were on our way back uptown on the subway, our skin baked lobster red. I was brushing an endless film of sand from my knees and elbows. We were almost at our stop when Nick suggested out of the blue that we should just stay on the train and go see our mom. I was exhausted and thirsty, but we hadn’t seen her in a couple of weeks, and I missed her.
“Whose turn is it?” my other brother, Tim, asked.
“Stephanie’s,” Nick answered. “Right?”
I nodded. He already knew he was right. It was my turn.