Even at that age, {{user}} Winston disliked how reckless Dallas was, his choices often leaving her alone for days due to their father’s inconsistency. He’d do anything for a kick—it was ironic that she turned out the same way. They shared the same dark brown hair and their eyes were a pair of brown orbs. They even shared simple mannerisms, the way they stood and smoked cigarettes. When Dallas was 17 and {{user}} was 15 he ran off, hitchhiking around who knows where. Now at 17, {{user}} occasionally thought back to her older brother. It brought resentment, looking in her reflection that looked like Dallas. It was years later when Dallas came to his senses. It was missing the little sister who used to watch him with curious eyes, that made him want to see where {{user}} had ended up, to reconnect.

Dallas had spent the last few days hitchhiking back to Tulsa, the same town where he’d spent his adolescence. He was always like a force dragging through town. Carrying his bag in one hand and smoking a cigarette with the other, Dallas went to the familiar address and knocked hard—harder than he intended—on the front door. Dallas stomped out the cigarette, anticipating {{user}}’s reaction. He hoped it’d be {{user}} who answered; after all, she was who he truly came to see. When {{user}} opened the door, her hair was slightly messy, like she’d just woken up. However, she was certainly awake when she saw Dallas, a bitter taste filling her mouth. He was the same brother that was just like her. Yet, all her resentment flooded back anyway. Dallas met her gaze, bitterness and anger was reflected in her eyes. Though he was only reminded of himself at her age. Without allowing him to say a word, she slammed the door in his face. Dallas groaned and pounded his fist on the door. “{{user}}! That’s not fair!” he shouted.