Have you ever woken up, when you didn’t remember going to sleep? With a headache that wasn’t caused by any alcohol ingestion, and with something warm pressing against your back? It was an odd experience, and one that our own Nathaniel Rowland wouldn’t recommend you experienced.

No; if memory served; he hadn’t gone to bed. Though, waking up was a sure sign that he had. No, he didn’t remember going to sleep. Yes, he remembered feeling tired and sleepy. No, he hadn’t made the move to walk up the stairs to his room, at least, he didn’t remember doing it. Memory lapse much?

His head pounded, painfully, and the light he could see through closed-lidded eyes added to the level of ‘ouch’ he was feeling. If anything, right this second the blond wished he was dead. Yes; he’d experienced hang over’s before, more than a few times, actually, and they were bad, could end up being terrible. This was a few levels beyond that.

But unless cola-pop and milk gave you hangovers, there was absolutely no reason for this pain, and this lapse in remembering.

Now, warm solid feeling, near and against him, and moving. Last time he’d checked, He hadn’t left home. There were only so many people in the house, his mother included. Though… He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that he was clothed, in exactly what he’d been wearing the night before, or at least something similar. No worries there.

Well, that was lie. Yes, still a lot of worries to be had. No, his mother wouldn’t allow for frisky things to happen under her roof, but… What other explanation could there be? What really made up Feathers mind was a disgruntled grunt and half a roll from behind him. He did his own half a roll and ended up face to face with... Oddly enough, himself.

Have you ever woken up, when you didn’t remember going to sleep, and end up face to face with yourself? Maybe he was still sleeping, because this was starting to look like some surreal, awkward dream.

The ‘other’ Feather blinked in a disoriented fashion and stared half asleep at the ‘real’ Feather, apparently not understanding the complications of this ‘dream’. “…Nn… Why’re you sleeping in m’bed…?” That statement was wrong in more than one way. First of all, the lacey bed cover clearly labeled this room as that of the twins’ parents.

Though, apparently Corey hadn’t realized it. “… Oh, its you.” To bad. The idea of having another Nathaniel was entertaining. Unfortunately, his brother was terrible at acting ‘feather-ish’. His head was still a little sore, making thinking like a smart human being hard, and thus more stupid words were uttered. “Why do you… look like me…”

Corey stared for another minute, thinking over the question that was asked. He wasn’t really in the mood for thinking, either; having similar head problems as his younger brother. “….Because we’re brothers…?” He wasn’t sure if that was a good answer, but was to busy trying to figure out what was wrong with this picture, to care.

Feather snorted, and cringed at the wash of pain it caused his head, and sat up slowly, so as not to hurt himself anymore. Once he was sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair and started scratching at his head “That’s not what I meant.” The good thing about now was that after being up for a few seconds, his head was starting to feel… better. Rational thoughts were actually starting to make their selves known. “Something… about…” He used one hand to indicate the general direction of his brother’s head, but didn’t say anything.

Oh, there was something terribly wrong with Corey’s hair!

“What?” Corey was sitting up in a moment, and had one hand petting his head, in an attempt to tell what was wrong. His first thought went along the lines of ‘oh my god I’m bald.’ But that wasn’t the case, since he could still feel his hair. Although, it was sort of grainy, and not as smooth as usual. This was cause for massive concern. “What…?” He quickly checked left and right, trying to find a mirror of some kind, forgetting about how his head hurt, but was left empty handed. The closest mirror was in the bathroom, and that involved getting up.

Feather reached one hand out to sort of ‘help’ his brother, grabbing a chunk of hair and pulling on it a little, enough so that Corey could see it in his hand. There was a string of silence, and then Corey started grabbing at his own hair, pulling down on it in a very stressed out manner. “Oh, oh God. This… this...”

“You’re blond again.” The true blond finished for his usually black haired twin. “When did you do that? Did it just grow in during the… night?” The glare that he was given was enough to stop whatever thought train Nathaniel had been on. “What? You aren’t blaming me, are you? Blond is my colour, why would I turn you back to it??”

Corey had apparently stopped listening half way through his brothers sentence, and was to absorbed in the awe that was his now straw like, very blond hair. He’d taken up whimpering, and making tiny whining sounds as he tried to piece together the mystery of this. “…W-who would even consider this kind of.. of.. crime against me??” he pretty much wailed, earning a good long eye roll from beside him.

And that’s when the hand Feather had been running through his hair discovered something wrong with himself. A little to the left, and a bit down… there was something missing. He grabbed at the bangs on the left side of his head, to discover that they were all the same length, and colour; missing the long black lock of hair that had been used to describe ‘him’ for months. There was something terribly wrong with the world.

Nathaniel’s pathetic wails of distress mixed almost harmoniously with Corey’s.

The massive amounts of sudden depression coming from her room seemed to attract the young looking Mother of the two. Elizabeth Rowland, hair freshly out of her curlers, walked into her bedroom, both hands planted firmly on her hips and she watched her children, with an un-impressed frown upon her smooth face. “Come on now, is all of this drama really necessary?”

Both the blond headed twins turned to their mother, identical green eyes radiating ‘sorrow’ “What happened?? Who would even-“

“-What happened to my hair?? The colour! The colour!! Its in-humane!” Corey shouted, his voice canceling out his brothers. He crawled to the edge of the bed, and whimpered to his mother; maybe she would feel sympathy for him? “I don’t understand…” Feather was sitting next to him, and added his own voice to the last whine.

The older woman sighed and shook her head. “Quite acting like children. Its just hair, if anything it’ll grow back, and you can always colour it again.” She shot both her sons a glare that shut off both their whining faucets. “Your grandmother is visiting from Manchester, and will be here tonight or tomorrow morning.”

The twins exchanged an almost horrified glance, though each for a different reason. “That old hag?!” Screamed Nathaniel just as Corey shouted in a horrified manner “YOU did this to me!?”

Feather turned quickly to Corey, and vice versa, both blinking at what was said by the other, and their angry shouts were reversed. “What?! It was YOU?!” Demanded Nathaniel, almost in disbelief, while Corey was completely taken back “That old Prude?! Here?!”

Though it wasn’t exactly the ideal time to chuckle, Mrs. Rowland couldn’t help it. However confused and un-proper her boys were, they were amusing, and still very cute to her. “Yes. Our own dearest Victora.” You could almost feel the dread in her voice at the mention of her mother-in-law. “Now listen here, boys. I don’t intend to spend the week listening to your Grandmother complaining about my parenting skills. I need you both prime and proper; Corey, dear, your hair is lovely in black, but you know your grandmother. Feather, Nathaniel, I love your creativity, but you understand.”

And the both of them were at a loss for words. Feather actually mouthed a few incoherent things and finished off with a defeated whimper. Corey was still in his state of shock. The very idea that his own mother would… harass him like this… “Wh-when, how! How did you do it??” he demanded, hopefully not ‘demanding’ enough to get into trouble.

Mrs. Rowland raised both her eyebrows in surprise; she’d expected the twins to have figured it out by now. Apparently she was giving them too much credit. “Easy, your father brought home something nice from his office. Put you both to sleep very quickly!”

Now if there ever was a time for Awe, it was now. “Dad had a part in this madness to?!” Feather actually fell backwards onto the bed, distraught, and feeling quite betrayed. What kind of parents drugged their children, and forcefully cut their hair while they were in a drug-induced sleep?? This was more than madness!

“I can’t believe you two. As if you’d even consider this sort of mutilation! Just to save yourselves a little stress on grandmother’s part! Why don’t you tell the hag to shut up??” Corey refrained for giving any more ‘helpful’ advice, on account that his mother had glared daggers in his direction. He sighed and slumped on the spot. “… I can’t go to school like this…”

The Rowland mother chuckled at the still present distress and gave her head a quick shake. “Get over it. As soon as your Grandmother leaves, in good humor, you can return your heads to the way they were. Now, breakfast is ready in the kitchen, get ready for school and come down.” She pet Corey on the head once before taking herself out of the room, presumably heading down to the kitchen.

Feather sighed heavily with an un-avoidable whimper. “Screw school. What are they going to say? I’m not Feather without my blackness…” He glanced over at the pouting Corey and sighed again, pulling himself up into a sitting position. “You can dye your head in half a night, I have to re-GROW mine! You emo bastard.”

Corey just shot his brother a nasty look, which wasn’t actually that ‘Corey’ like, without the blackness of his hair. Blond threw off his… perfect, devious self. “Just shut up.” He pulled himself off the bed and slowly started walking towards his room, bare feet dragging against the carpet as he went. Feather wasn’t far behind him, and just as feet-dragging-emo.

It took ten agonizing minutes before either of the teens left their rooms. Feather was having a hard time getting his hair to look right without his tell-tale black streak. Everything he did looked wrong, and in the end, he ended up rubbing both hands through his hair angrily and leaving for the food that was supposed to be in the kitchen. Corey, on the other hand, spent the ten minutes staring blankly into the full length mirror on his wall, unable to do anything with his head of now blond hair. Though, no scissors had touched him, it was all wrong. He wasn’t himself anymore. He… looked like Feather! Even with his better sense of style!

Downstairs in the kitchen awaited breakfast. Though, after such a terrorizing experience, the breakfast wasn’t as extravagant as you would expect a sorry mother to make. Feather sat at the small breakfast table and sighed at the sight of the traditional bowl of cereal sitting in front of him. A nice pancake would have almost given him the strength to forgive his mother. “…You really went all out here, mom…”

“Be quiet and eat; I’ve got to get to work a little early today, so if you don’t want to walk to school, you’d best be finished real soon.” She was busying herself at the counter, packing a lunch for both her boys, and herself. Mr. Rowland had left for his office a few hours earlier; he was always gone early, except for the odd day he had off.