My name is Asher. I live with my three uncles in their house on the corner of Rooster and Cherry....
I despise my uncles.
Honestly, I don't understand why I need to be here. Most of the time, you hear about orphaned kids wanting to be with family members out there, just so they can feel like they're more connected to what they lost.
I am not such kid.
If you saw my uncles on the street, in the mall, the supermarket, anywhere you would think they're kidnappers or something awful like that. They just have this vibe about them that automatically makes you want to avoid them.
I do that at all costs.
When they come upstairs, I go downstairs. When they come downstairs, I go upstairs. They come in the kitchen, I leave...
I despise my uncles.
My dad wrote in his will that, if he ever happened to die (poor bastard, he did) he wanted me to live with his three brothers; said I might "be the one to finally redeem them." Whatever that means.
So, I'm stuck here. With them. Until I'm eighteen.
Where's the nearest orphanage?

The first day I came here was the worst. I had all my belongings packed away in the trunk of their van and they didn't care about it at all. They just slammed most of it on the ground, walked back outside and just threw stuff on top of others. A lot of the stuff I brought with me is crap. Old CD's I don't listen to, clothes, school work from when I was three, posters, that sort of thing. But some stuff I want to keep in tact, precious, and safe.
Like my family photos.
The stuff in a shoe box I don't let out of its new hiding place.
An address book.
So, considering my desire to keep a few of my belongings safe, you can of course imagine my turmoil when they saw the box labeled "Family Photos" and decided I needed to grow up.
Uncle Rob was the worst. He looked at me with a sneer on his face and said, "What are you? A pussy? Why you still keepin' this shit around here. You don't need that asshole and his whore lady in photos. Their memory has left enough of a taint on my consciousness."
He picked the whole box up and started to walk towards the fireplace, his army boots banging nosily on the polished hardwood floor.
Anger like nothing you could ever imagine flared up from the deepest layer of my being, spread through my core, and erupted to the surface.
I tackled him, feeling twice as heavy and powerful than I really am. Uncle Rob fell to the floor, the box of photos went flying out of his hands and scattered over the living room floor. Two of the photos I was trying so desperately to save fluttered into the flames, soon devoured in smoke and licks of an orange tongue.
I watched my parents burn for a second time.
Hastily, casting furtive glances over my shoulder every couple of seconds at my uncles, I collected the remaining photos, stashed them as neatly as I could back in the box, and tucked it securely under my arm.
All my uncles did was glare as I scurried up the stairs, slamming the door of my new room closed as soon as I crossed the threshold.
I despise my uncles.
To all you people who know how it feels to hate someone in the very core of your being, you should know the single most obvious way to get revenge...
Defy them without being caught.
In doing so, you get the sickest sort of satisfaction knowing that they are not as all powerful, not as far-reaching as they make themselves out to be.
Sometimes, you are the one with power.
Naturally, as my uncles are crazy (at least in my opinion. Care to take a look?) they gave me but one prohibition. "As long as you live under our roof," my Uncle Mason told me hours after I retreated to my room, Uncle Jeremy standing just outside my door with only his Adidas sneakers visible. "You must never--and I repeat NEVER--go down into the basement. There's nothing down there that concerns you, and some things we keep down there are not for kids to be playing with; you hear me?" I nodded as I looked down at his penny loafers. He was the only one of my uncles that seemed to own more than one pair of shoes.
Since he told me that, I've been practicing picking locks, and improving every day.
Someday soon, whatever they're keeping from me in that basement is going to be exposed.
What can I say?
I despise my uncles.