“Look! It’s him! He winked! He’s the chosen one!”

“My son! I’m so proud! This is the best day of my life!”

My parents picked up my twin brother Damian and embraced him like he was some kind of treasure. They left me alone with the nurse.

Of course I don’t remember the day of my birth but later on in my life, my aunt told me that’s how it happened. From the very first day my parents decided that Damian was special and that I, Peter, was ... well... rubbish.

You might be wondering why. Well, my parents belonged to some weird kind of cult. When the leader found out that my mom was pregnant with twins, he told her that he got a vision from the heavens that one of us would change the world – that one of us was extremely special.

“But how will I know which one it is?”

“The first baby to open his eyes is the one. He is a prophet and he will be our next leader.”

An ordinary parent would probably be like “What the heck?” but my mom and dad were totally brainwashed and believed everything they were told.

So as you can probably guess, my childhood wasn’t the best. I think my earliest memory is when I was three years old. My parents took Damian and I to the place where they worshiped and as soon as we walked in, everyone stood up and the leader came to pick Damian up. Everyone stretched their hand out and they looked like they thought that Damian was some sort of angel on earth. He was put to sit on a nicely decorated chair in the front of the room and my parents left me with some old people in the back. They paid absolutely no attention to me and the leader kept telling everyone how special Damian was.

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