Something old that I found while looking through my mom's laptop. Ha-ha, how cute.

Disclaimer: I do not own Race to Witch Mountain

"Sara! If you would like a ride to school, I suggest that you get yourself down here in ten minutes!" Sara sighed. Her mother was always in a rush weekday mornings, and it drove Sara mad at times. Times very similar to this one. "Coming!" She sighed, throwing her covers back and jumping into her bathroom to take a shower. The warm water woke her up as it ran down her skin.

Sara wrapped a fluffy towel around herself and walked back into her room, opening up her closet to put on her school uniform. Passing her mirror to get downstairs, her reflection caught her eye. She groaned when she caught the sight of her hair. She wanted to cut if - if her mother would let anyone bring scissors anywhere nearher head. The girl's shinning gold hair hung down to her hips at the age of fifteen.

"Aw, the school really needs new uniforms," She thought, eying the ugly blue tie that hung loosely around her neck. She slid a navy blue headband onto her head and nodded at her reflection with approval. "There," She thought. "That looks so much better."

She trampled down the stairs. "Sure, I can meet you at the boutique. No, no, it's fine. I'll let my daughter know." Sara's mother spoke into her blue tooth quite loudly while handing Sara her book bag. It was a plaid navy blue and red messenger bag. Sara smiled. With her dark brown hair and blue eyes, her mother looked beautiful in her black business suit.

"Sara, honey, I'm going to be a little late to dinner. I have to meet Adam at his new boutique." Ms. Adam's explained, pouring herself a cup of coffee from the pot in the coffeemaker. "Sure, Mom. No problem." But deep down Sara wished her mother would be home early, or at least call once in a while to check in. "It's going to be a long day," Sara thought wearily.

Almost as soon as the last bell rang Sara was the already out of the school. She lived the farthest away from the school and had to walk home today since her mother wasn't there to pick her up. As she turned left she could hear people chanting horrible names at her. How were people out already? It was as if the bullies waited for her. "Crack baby," a girl hissed as Sara hurried pass. That was why she didn't take the bus, either.

Sara began to walk faster and broke into a sprint. As she ran home she thought of how her day had gone. All of her classes had gone well; her teachers had praised her practically every minute. The teasing was normal, it happened every day; but today was one of the days that she her heart ached for her father.

Sara's father had died of a heart attack when she was just eight years old. He had been the type of parent to stay home and leave notes in your lunch and all that. He and Sara had done everything together. She even got most of her looks from her father. She had the same blonde hair. The same clear blue eyes. Even the same smile. She felt burning hot tears sting her eyes as she neared her house. Instead of letting herself into the house, she ran to her old tree house.

As she climbed up the ladder the memory of building the tree house replayed in her mind. She had been five years old, and had just been reading one of the Magic Tree House books. No sooner had she finished the last chapter of her book had she turned around and asked her father to help her create a tree house of their own. The pair had spent a whole week out of the summer building the hideout, and once Sara had moved all of her books inside of the abode, it was even harder for her parents to get her out. After her father died, the tree house was a place where she could remember him. She climbed into the small wooden room, smiling at the smell of summer and leaves. She looked about her surroundings and found her favorite red beanbag chair. Her father used to sit down on it, take her in his lap, and read to her until she fell asleep. Without thinking, the girl threw herself on to the chair and began to sob.

"Sara, where are you?" Sara awoke to her mother calling her name. What time was it? She hadn't realized that she had fallen asleep. "Are you up there?" Her mother called from under the ladder. Sara stuck her head out of the tree house before climbing down the ladder.

"You've been up there all this time?" Her mother stroked her honey colored bangs back. Sara hated that. Didn't her mother ever notice her wince? "It's not that late." Sara shrugged, biting her lip. Her mother threw her a look. "It's eight. You get out of school at three. Did you even touch your homework?" Her mother asked, her arms folding in that special way that they did.

"It's Friday. I don't have any." Sara rolled her eyes, hoping that her mother couldn't see in the darkness of night slowly falling. "Well, you still should have at least been eating dinner." Her mother scolded. "I left chicken in the fridge. You really didn't have an excuse. Sara groaned and walked past her mother and into the house. "Sara!" Her mother exclaimed. Sara ignored her and walked up the stairs to her room.

Even though it was still pretty early, she felt like going to bed. Before putting on her pajamas, a flash of light caught her eye. Walking over to the window by the bed, Sara was astonished to see what she thought looked like a shooting star. What had her father always said? Something about making a wish around shooting stars.

"I have to make a wish! " She thought. Sara shut her eyes quickly in fear of missing the star. "I wish I wouldn't be lonely anymore. That my mom would be around, or that I would have a friend.Both would be nice." She sighed when she opened her eyes and the star was no longer in sight. She laughed at herself before crawling into bed and drifting off to sleep.

Sara woke up to the sound of something softly pounding against her window. She got out of bed and looked up. It was snowing! She trudged down the stairs. Instead of her mother she found a note.

Sara,

I had to leave for work early because of all of the snow.

I should be home around nine. Stay close to the house today, ok?

I promise we will do something fun tomorrow. Have a fun snow. Wait, it's Saturday, right?

Sara smiled. Her mom rarely left her notes anymore. As she went to get cereal down from a cabinet, she heard something. It was probably just the wind. She went back to fixing herself her cereal when she heard it again. Louder this time; something was moving.

Sara grabbed a knife from the counter. Was that too dramatic? It could very well just be something outside, like a tree falling down or something, but Sara wasn't one for taking chances. Sara saw something flash in front of her, and she gripped the knife harder, swinging her weapon at the intruder, ridding her hands of anything to defend herself with. A boy stood in front of her, looking to be amused and slightly confused at the same time. The knife was directly behind him, as if…as if it had gone right through him.

Sara did what anyone would've done: began to scream. "Who are you?" She demanded, although it sounded much more like a squeak escaping her mouth instead. The boy stared at her, his brow furrowing. "Answer me!" Sara exclaimed. When the boy didn't respond, Sara dashed over to the counter, where the phone sat. Just as she was about to dial for the cops, the phone was swung out of her grasp.

"Are you crazy?" Sara asked, looking up at the boy. Right into his eyes, a deep blue color. Exactly like hers.

"It really is affecting you…" The boy murmured, dropping Sara's arm. Sara couldn't do anything but stare at him. The boy's eyes snapped back over to hers, calculating something. "What is your name?" He asked in a low, serious voice. "Like I would tell you!" Sara exclaimed incredulously.

"Sara. Your name is Sara." The boy said firmly, as if he were trying to convince himself of something. The boy paused, and Sara's jaw began to drop. "That is, of course, unless you were made to think otherwise." Sara slowly shook her head at the boy who was now squinting at her, before letting out yet another scream.

The boy rolled his eyes and placed a hand over Sara's mouth, muffling the shorter girl's screams. Sara's eyes widened. "You do realize that you never acted this way before, correct?" He asked; his face slightly amused. He stared at Sara a moment before taking his hand off of her mouth. Sara stared once more; confused. This boy, thought significantly taller in height than she, looked just like her. He had the same color blonde hair, the same shade of blue eyes.

"Who are you?" Sara whispered. The boy looked behind her, exasperated. "I am your brother. You just don't remember because of a man by the name of Henry Burke."

Aw, I remember this….there is actually another chapter written for this, but it is pretty short. This actually seems pretty interesting…I might add onto it.