Today happened to be the 5th year anniversary of my father’s death. Every year on this day my mother becomes especially violent. I know she never loved him; she only ever wanted him for his money. This is the reason I’m so confused as to why this day throws her into more tantrums than every other day.

Slamming the truck door I shoved the key into the ignition, maybe a bit more forceful than necessary. As soon as the truck was on I locked the doors just in time as my mother pounded on the driver side door, her dark brown eyes blazing with fury. Her short blond hair was messy and unkempt looking, her eyes narrowed like those of a viper.

“Unlock this door now!” She screeched, her voice muffled by the glass. Her clutched fists pounded angrily on the glass as she screamed, cuss words streaming like a waterfall from her mouth.

Shifting the car into reverse I dug my foot into the gas pedal, sending the tires squealing as I was flung forward into the steering wheel. The truck lurched backwards into the street as I turned the wheel, righting myself before shifting it into drive. The car tires once again squealed as they left tire burns in the street. Speeding away I glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing my mother standing in the street. Her hair was matted and dripping as well as the rest of her clothes as she glared at me with those flaming eyes.

At that moment, I knew I could never go back to that house.

There was, however, one place I could go. Kye’s house. I’d always been welcome there with open arms. His family was friendly and kind, though they were also rather…interesting.

Kye had two brothers and one sister. His older brother, Simon, was average height with light, messy blonde hair, pale skin, dark brown eyes, and he wore glasses. He was the nerdy type and worked from their house as a computer science…something. I knew he helped him father with his business, which I’m not sure what his business is exactly. His second oldest brother, Theodore (though we call him Theo), was more of a jockey guy, pretty smart, and he was always joking around. He had darkly tanned skin, bright green eyes, cropped black hair, and a pair of biceps that would make any girl swoon or drool. Any girl besides me that is.

Kye’s sister, Lillian, was of Japanese descent. She had a dark complexion with bronze skin, long dark brown hair that went down to the middle of her back, and slanted dark brown eyes. She was his older sister by 3 years, Theo by 5, and Simon by 6. None of the siblings looked alike at all, but it was explained that they were all adopted which made sense.

Their father was a tall, slender man with more of a wise and all-knowing stance. He had tanned skin, black hair with grey teasing along the sides, and kind grey-blue eyes. Never once had I not seen him wearing a suit and tie or dress pants with a vest and dress shirt underneath. He had that old timey feel to him, as if he’d been born in the 1800’s. But his appearance told me he was probably in his early forties despite the greying at the edge of his hair line.

I’d been over there plenty of times and his family seemed to love me, especially his sister. She was gorgeous in every way possible, stylish, and a good person. The total opposite of me.

I was a simple girl with naturally curly/wavy honey brown hair that was impossible to handle, creamy pale skin, and pale green eyes. Personally, I didn’t care for fashion. I wore what I liked and what I felt was comfortable. Most of the time that was skinny jeans, converse or vans knock-offs, and a hoodie or jacket and a t-shirt. Nothing fancy or pretty to look at.

Despite my meager appearance his sister insisted on attempting to give me a make-over every time I went to their house. 9 out of 10 times I was saved by Kye who insisted that we play videogames or do homework. The other times I was forced into elaborate dresses or ‘trendy’ clothes then slathered in make-up, hair products, and perfumes. Sometimes I literally thought she was trying to kill me with all these things. Then she’d show me off like I was some sort of pet or a project she was very proud of.

Lillian would hold a little fashion show for her family. Feature: Moi.

Normally, it went like this. She’d drag me up to her room, jam me in a snuggly fitting dress or outfit since, by some miracle, we wore the same size of clothing. Then she’d powder me in make-up and do my hair which took forever. I hated every part of it, but I bit my tongue because Lillian genuinely enjoyed doing it. She said no one else appreciated her talent and they wouldn’t let her do anything. She said it was nice having a girl to talk to for once, since she lived with all boys and didn’t have anyone to talk to since she was 21 and didn’t go to school.

I didn’t have the heart to deny the sweet, happy Lillian her wishes so I went along with it. Who in their right mind wouldn’t?

She would then proceed to spend 20 minutes preening and prodding at me to make sure everything was perfect. Not a hair was out of place on my head nor a smudge of make-up misplaced when magic-maker Lillian was done with me. After that she would then take another 20 minutes convincing me to go downstairs to show her unenthusiastic family her ‘work of art’ as she put it.

Once in a while I would catch Kye gawking discreetly at me, but as soon as he saw me looking he’d turn away and pretend like he didn’t care. I just assumed it was because he thought I looked hideous even with make-up and stylish clothes. Personally I didn’t blame him.