i'm happy with my heritage. my mom is colombian, and my dad is white. i don't think i've ever heard anyone say that outright. this morning,i looked into my tan, freckled face and stepped back to admire my new duds. i was cursed with my mom's hips, is what my dad jokes. my jeans, a pair of Sevens are snug on my hips and squeeze the ring of fat around my middle. i ran my hands down my lumpy sides and looked at my lopsided boobs.
okay, well, i'm..content with my heritage. i have a slim-ish face, littered with freckles and fitted with dark brown eyes and a slim nose. the one part of me that's skinny.
a little groan from the bed across from mine takes my attention from mapping my mistakes and i look over as my sister, Ana sits up in bed, and stretches her scrawny arms over her head. she pushed a straight, chestnut brown lock out of her eye and landed her gold eyes on mine.
"hey, sis." she grins. "i just had the weirdest dream about a..banana boat." her rosy pink lips curled into a pearly white smile. i reach up and tap a bracket of my braces. i don't answer her query and just readjust my glasses so they fit the bridge of my nose right.
i watch her as she flutters across the room, looking through the mess of her vanity for her hairbrush. her hair smells like bananas- mine smells faintly of coconut. i'm running out of shampoo. her bird legs..her perfect legs form into tree position unconsciously as she scrolls through instagram.
my twin sister, the yoga loving, long haired, doe eyed, perfect bmi'd white girl.
she's my best friend and my worst enemy.