"Mommy!"

I am startled out of sleep by Charlie calling for our mom. He has been having a lot of nightmares lately.

Mom came into our shared bedroom. Her blond hair was shining in the sunlight. Ugh, sunlight. That means it's morning and we had to start getting ready for school.

"It's ok, Charlie, Momma is right here." she knelt next to his bed and started stroking his hair. "What happened?"

"Mommy, it was terrible!" Charlie cried. "We were all running away from something big and scary! It almost got you, but the there was this big wave and it dropped you, but then a wolf got Zoë and took her away and-"

He kept going, but I realized he was describing some of my own dreams. I had dreamed of that same thing just last night and had jolted awake in a cold sweat.

Just then Dad came in, looking very sleepy. He and I both have the same black hair and green eyes and we both can wake up rather grumpy. Charlie takes after Mom a bit more, with blond hair and gray eyes, and a mostly cheery wake up.

"It's just a dream." he said, but whether it was to comfort Mom or Charlie, I couldn't tell. He came over and kissed me on the top of my head. "Happy birthday twelve-year-old!"

Oh my gosh! I had forgotten that today was my birthday! I leaped out of bed and started dancing around the room in my pegasus pajamas.

"I'm 12 years old! Does that mean I get my own room now?" I asked.

"Zoë, our apartment is so small the only extra bedroom we have is the roof!" Mom said, laughing.

I noticed that despite her laughter and Dad's smile, they looked worried. I put that to the 'they grow up too fast' feeling that parents get.

Dad left to start breakfast and Mom began helping Charlie get ready for school. He is seven years old, and should be able to dress himself. But he is the baby of the family, and Mom knows that I like to be treated like my age, so unless I asked her, she won't help me get dressed.

I pulled on my favorite 'Mount Olympus Swim Team' T-shirt and my most worn-out, faded pair of blue jeans and went out into the kitchen. Dad was making a family favorite, blue pancakes.

"Hey Zoë," he said, "I have a little gift for you. I was going to give it to you tonight, but you might need it today at school. Hold out your hand."

I did, and he put a pen into my palm. It wasn't a very fancy pen, just a cheap ballpoint with a cap that you could probably find in a dollar store.

I looked at it skeptically. Dad wouldn't have gotten me something like this without a purpose, so there had to be some reason he thought a pen was special.

"I know it doesn't look like much, but that pen has been in my pocket for thirty years. It is a dangerous weapon. Only use it in an emergency."

I had to fight the urge to say either "This is a pen." or "Yeah, yeah, 'The pen is mightier than the sword' and all that." But I kept my mouth shut.

Mom and Charlie came out and then the pancakes were done and suddenly I was rushing out the door with Mom and Charlie. We hurried to catch the bus that would take my brother and I to school and Mom to work.

All in all, a fine start to my birthday. If only it had stayed that way.

A/n:
Man, the first part to my first story! I don't know how often I will be able to update, it might take a while to finish. If you happened to 'pick' this up, I appreciate it a lot! Let me know what you think of this! (Be kind plz,😘)