Chapter 1 - In The Beginning

Chapter one: In the Beginning

I lied there with my eyes closed listening to the rain. By the temperature of the room, I could tell that it was around ten o’clock, much later than I usually wake up. I’m always such a morning person. The other thing I noticed was that the bed was empty except for me; Daisy must already be awake and about.

May as well get up, I told myself; still listening to the rain beat down on the window. I opened my eyes and slowly at up.

There was a mirror across the room directly in front of the bed. Still sitting in it, I glanced at my reflection. It looked back at me, half-asleep and drowsy-looking.

With a large nose and thick, black moustache that took up a lot of my thin face, I was rather unusual looking. (But not ugly, mind you.) My large, vibrant blue eyes were half-closed now. Usually they had a tint of violet as well, but now, having just woken up, were blank. I had medium-tint brown hair that looked even more unusual going with my black eyebrows and moustache. My trademark hat usually covered it, however. Something that nobody knew about me was that I actually had bangs that came down almost to my eyes, but they were usually slicked back in order to look decent when I wore my hat.

My favorite thing about my own appearance, however, was my sideburns that ran down past both of my ears. Being of Italian ethnicity, I spoke in a heavy Italian accent. I liked that too, though. Daisy always comments on how she absolutely loves the way Mario and I talk. Can’t argue with that!

I glanced at the grandfather clock on the other side of the room. It was 10:15, just like I had thought. I planted my feet on the floor and stood up. Yeah, okay, I wasn’t very tall, standing at only around 5’5. Even Daisy was taller than me, at 5’7.

The only person on the face of the planet who resembled me at all was my twin brother, Mario. But then, even he didn’t look too much like me. We shared the same facial features, (Only he styled his moustache and hair differently,) but anything else was different. Even though we were fraternal twins, it seemed that he had inherited a lot of things from our parents that I hadn’t.

For example, I’ve always been more tall and lanky than Mario. He’s spent his whole life on the chubby side. He was also a good five inches shorter than I was. His hair was almost red it was so light brown. His voice was a lot higher than mine, and even our skin tones didn’t match. Mario was a little bit darker than I was.

Our personalities couldn’t be more different, as well. I’ll admit that I’m very high-strung and cowardly, but Mario often likes to tap the Grim Reaper on the shoulder and say hi. Mario’s very laid back, not scared of anything. All right, all right… I’m scared of everything. Not much of an optimist, am I? Though, if you don’t know either of us very well, I’m much friendlier to strangers.

But despite all of our differences, Mario and I got along famously, for siblings, at least. Perhaps that was because of all the crazy adventures we’ve been on. Twice I’ve had to risk my life to save his. Just last year, we had to travel to a distant land to get rid of an evil witch that had supposedly stolen a powerful, ancient relic from the castle. That experience in the Beanbean Kingdom is one I’ll never forget… but the haunted mansion ordeal is harder to forget. I’m still scarred by that.

I lifted my nightshirt a little to get a glance at my left side. Just above my hip was a two-inch long, white scar. That was where a Shy Guy ghost had stabbed me with his spear in my haunted mansion. Yep, still scarred.

I left the room and caught vision of a large, dusty book on the hall’s side table. That hadn’t been there last night. There was a note on top of the book, and I recognized the scribbly handwriting immediately.

Luigi-
I was going through our things in the attic of the castle, and I found this. I have no idea how this got here, miraculous, actually. Anyway, I thought you’d enjoy seeing this. I got a couple of good laughs.
-Mario

I picked up the book and opened it. It was a photo album. Inside were pictures, pictures that were amazingly old. There was a yellowed photo of Mario and me as babies, throwing mud at each other, and one of me and… no, that couldn’t be, Waluigi! In the third grade. Then there were seventeen pictures in a row of me…

I chuckled out loud at the pictures. There was a picture every year between ages 0 and 16 of me sleeping during the day on a cot outside. I had forgotten how much I used to sleep during the day. But there I was, as an infant sucking my thumb, as a four year old hugging a teddy bear, as a ten year old with a soccer ball on the floor under me, as a fourteen year old just starting to grow my moustache, and as a sixteen year old with car keys hanging from my hand. Heh, heh… I remembered how much I loved my first car.

On the next page, there were a couple of pictures of Mario and I as teenagers. I supposed we were fifteen. We were standing in front of a building, Jefferson High. That was my high school.

I sighed and closed the book. How did Mario come across this?

The smell of bacon frying reached my nose. I found it a little odd that our cook was still making breakfast, but I didn’t mind. Good timing on his part, actually. I made my way down the spiraling marble staircase. I swear, I’ll never get used to this castle. I finally reached the dining room, but it was empty. There were a couple of dirty plates on the table, which suggested that Daisy had already been here. Where was she, though?

“Slept in late, today, did we?” came a startling voice behind me that made me jump. I turned around and made eye contact with Weston, one of the castle butlers. He was a very tall man, a little more than a head taller than me. He was of average build and in his late fifties. He had grayish hair that was balding, but there was a tint of yellow in it, suggesting he was a blond in his youth. He always wore a scowl, though, one that reminded me very much of Waluigi.

“I suppose,” I said.

“Well, you can’t have forgotten about your appointment today?” he said, in a voice that hinted that he didn’t like me very much. Of course, I’ve thought that for a long time. I think he saw me as an immature little boy, though my 24th birthday was approaching.

“Appointment?” I asked. I hated it when I made mistakes like forgetting things. That seemed to make Weston despise me a little more. His upper lip twitched slightly, and then he said agitatedly, “Think.”

I felt my face go red, but I scanned my mind for any appointments I could have made. No, my next dentist appointment is in a few months… I didn’t have any cars to pick up from the shop; do I have contacts or glasses to pick up? No, I have 20/15 vision, I don’t need that…

I shook my head, as much as I didn’t want to. Weston sighed.

“You’re getting fitted for your robes today,” he said.

“Oh, that’s right.” I said in a small voice.

“You know,” he said, looking at me funny from behind his square glasses, “We can’t have a king who keeps forgetting things.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, getting more agitated with him by the second. “I’ll write it down next time.”

“See to it that you do,” he said slyly, turned on his heel, and left.

Getting fitted for my king’s robes… how could I have forgotten? I’ve been looking forward to this for a really long time now, what could have gotten my mind off of it? I scolded myself slightly for forgetting, but then, after getting a glance of myself in another mirror in the dining room and seeing that my hair was sticking up in sixty different directions, realized that I must have looked pretty stupid in front of Weston.
After all, I looked pretty stupid in front of my own reflection. I snatched one of the cherry pastries off the table and left the room.

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