Dust floated through the rays of autumn sunlight leaking through my window as I sighed, stretching my legs under the cool sheets and pushing my arms up, up the wall so I could stretch my back. It clicked, and I sighed, closing my eyes after glimpsing Archie doing the same thing. Somewhere downstairs, plates clattered and Duchess barked at the noise. I sighed again, opening one eye as I turned and eyed the time lazily.

11:11

I smiled as I sat gently, swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress and letting my elbows fall onto my thighs, yawning loudly. I held up my left hand and sighed, watching the sun reflect off the silver ring on my thumb. Archie jumped into my lap and I straightened, scratching behind his ears as he purred.

love.

The minute ticked over, and I smiled, pushing the cat off my lap and onto my pillow, where he curled up and watched me silently. I stood, grabbing a towel and headed out of my room, across the hall in my pyjama bottoms and a baggy T as I heard movement from the other rooms. I jogged into the tiled bathroom and turned on the hot tap, opening one of the small frosted windows which looked onto our back yard, quickly kicking the bathroom door shut and locking it just in time to hear a bedroom door open, and feet scampering quickly down the carpet toward me.

bags first shower.

* * *

I opened the bathroom door fifteen minutes later, the towel wrapped around my waist wearing the baggy T. I looked down at Joe-Joe's pouting face and ruffled her short golden locks. she scowled and scampered round me, into the steamy bathroom, slamming the door behind her; in my face. I chuckled, taking my time getting back to my room as I spied the other three closed doors. I'm one of two girls in my family. Technically though, Joe-Joe isn't my little sister, she's my mom's husband's daughter. Just try telling her that though. The other three doors belong to my older brothers. I'm the runt of the Claire family, I had a younger sister but we lost her last fall. Don't be sorry, she was in a whole lot of pain and there wasn't much anyone could do about it.

I closed my bedroom door and sighed, dropping my towel and pulling the T over my head, looking at myself in the full length mirror. I'm not perfect, but it'll do. I dragged my feet over to my wardrobe and opened the purple doors, one hand reaching in for a tank and the other pressing the power button on my laptop.

I pulled the tank on as my welcome screen popped up. I typed in my password and waited whilst the 'vintage' PC [stands for Piece of Crap] fired up, messenger signing itself in. I love computer intelligence sometimes. I pulled on some three quarter length joggers and whistled Archie, who uncurled from my windowsill. 'Time for breakfast, Arch.'

Mom's always been a stereotypical housewife. She's a part time teacher at Joe-Joe's school, but apart from that she stays in and cleans the house.

fun fun

Nah she's in book clubs and stuff, she seems happy so good for her.

I walked into the kitchen and mom was sitting at the table, a huge plate of pancakes in the middle of the circular tabletop. She looked up and smiled, 'morning Dom.' I smiled back at her and sat on one of the chairs. She got up and fetched a plate for me, handing my a knife and fork.

Dan looked up at me from the other side of the table. All of my brothers and Joe-Joe belong to him, the result of mom's second marriage. Dan's six four, handsome and the head of the Police department here. He's a nice guy.

'Morning Dom.' I raised a hand, then picked a pancake from the pile and flopped it onto my plate, pouring a ridiculous amount of syrup onto it, and cutting it into little pieces. I shovelled some of it into my mouth as mom sat down again next to Dan and kissed him on the cheek. I snorted into my plate (yucky?) and Dan chuckled heartily, his shoulders moving.

'How was last night?'

He looked over at me with his grey eyes and I swallowed, nodding as a sign of positiveness. I'm not rude, I just don't really talk all that much. I'm not angsty or anything, it's just less complicated if you only have to think about what other people are saying. Yeah, listening to other people has always been a talent of mine, I'm not so strong on the comforting/re-assuring front though.

'Yeah, Brookers is a good kid, he's got some nice folks.'

Of course Dan knew where I'd been last night and probably everything that'd happened. It doesn't bother me, I don't get into that much trouble. One time I'd regularly get into a couple scuffs here and there, but I'm over that now. I could hear mom talking about the Brookers, probably something to do with some party.

I have a sort attention span.

The boys - plus Joe-Joe - appeared as I dug into my third pancake.

Dan Jr. sat next to me, with Seth next to him, and Marley sat next to Dan Senior and my mother. Joe-Joe climbed onto the vacant chair next to me, her pudgy little fingers reaching for the tiny cubes of pancake I cut up for her earlier; she's six, and mom says she can't use knives yet.

Dan Jr - his real name's Ron but he looks so much like his father it's spooky - smiled at me and waved. He's the oldest at eighteen, just finishing up high school and looking to join the Police department like his father. He's the nicest, me an him get along a whole lot, but then again so does everyone else.

Seth grabbed a pile of pancakes and started shovelling them into his mouth. Apparently he looks more like his mother, but I wouldn't know. He has his father's dark eyes but sandy hair and a tanned skin. He's the youngest of the boys at sixteen, and he's all about girls and booze and fast cars and parties. Typical jock material. Ron elbowed him and he swallowed what must've been two whole pancakes, and he looked over at me, flashing his straight white teeth before focusing his attention back to his food.

Marley is something else entirely. Looking at the artificially coloured fringe that covered most of his pale face needs more than subscription sunglasses. He sat and picked at the single bare pancake with less enthusiasm that a dying gnat. Seventeen, with what little muscle he has hidden under black band Ts and tight skinny jeans. We don't talk much, actually I've only ever talked to him once or twice and that was before he moved in. Duchess, our husky, seems intent on catching his attention every waking hour though. She adores him, and as he placed the pancake in his mouth she came shooting out of her basket and nuzzled her head into his lap.

daft bitch.