As a family, we all stalk back up the basement stairs, leaving the dark and scary space. To be honest, I'm not too sad to leave the space and secretly hope that I won't have to come down here again, any time soon.
"It's probably time for you to go to bed, pumpkin," my father says, when the basement door is definitely bolted shut, just in case any prisoners escape their cell and think that it would be a good idea to try and open the door.
"But dad, it's only like eleven pm," I whine sulkily, quickly checking the time on my phone to confirm my statement.
"I know, I know," he says wisely, swiping the hair on his chin like he's intensely thinking about the matter. "But you have to go back to school tomorrow, and I don't want to you to be tired."
I know that there's no point in arguing this, because in the end it will get me no where. I have five brothers, and a father, who will not let me do anything at the end of the day, if they don't think it's appropriate.
Thank the gods, that they don't abuse their power.
I tiredly nod my head, and trudge up the stairs to my bedroom. But before I do that, I quickly make sure that I've bid all of my brothers a good night.
You never know whether if it might be the last time of seeing them.
Like with mum...
I would have never left the house if I had known it would be the final time I would ever look into her beautiful life full eyes, and witness her lovely smile.
I toss and turn in the bed, throwing off the covers, but then pulling them back up when I suddenly feel a shiver take over my body.
It's a harsh night, and in the end, I don't get as much sleep as my father was probably hoping I would. I guess that the time I go to bed doesn't impact anything.
Morning rolls around, and I should feel refreshed but I just feel even more tired, and now my neck is sore as well, from trying to pick a comfortable position to sleep in.
Screw my life.
Sunlight peeks through my window, and I try to get up to shut the blinds more, but they don't budge, and I just give up.
It's time to start the day, anyway.
I pull on a Taylor Swift shirt as usual which reads in large print 'home is where the heart is.'
The background of the shirt is white and my father keeps commenting on it, saying that I'm probably going to spill something on it, and ruin the shirt.
I just silently scoff at him, always offended at the thought of him thinking so low of me. As if I'd ever let anything bad happen to one of my Taylor Swift shirts- or even just her merch in general.
I pull on some black sport shorts, since it's supposed to be a lot warmer today. As long as I don't have to go back into the cold basement, I'm completely fine.
I brush my naturally straight hair away from my face, and pin it up in a pony tail just so it's not going to annoy me during the day.
I have always felt so lucky to have straight hair. I know that lots of people aren't as fortunate as I am, so it makes me very grateful.
When I have also applied minimal make up to my face, mainly to hide the hideous dark rings under my eyes, I pounce out of my bedroom, plastering a large smile of my face, and humming a happy song so no one realises that I'm actually dying of exhaustion.
I'm greeted by good mornings from everyone around who's awake and gathered around the kitchen table.
Axel still seems to be asleep, but that's just like he normally is, so I'm not bothered at all. Matteo is also absent, and this does arise suspicion in me, because he's always here in the mornings.
I think that breakfast is his favourite meal of the day.
The people around the table must notice my silent shift in mood, because my father answers my unasked question.
"Matteo already had breakfast. He's down in the basement having fun with a couple of the more dangerous prisoners."
There's a cruel underlying message in my father's voice, but I just brush it off, knowing fully well that he was taken by a couple of those people for over a decade. On top of that, a few of the prisoners are the reason his wife is dead.
I think that it's safe to say that my father has a very good reason to be mad at them.
"After you eat breakfast, Ze we'll head off to school, okay?" Levi suddenly mentions, taking a large bite out of the green apple he's holding in one hand.
I hum in agreement, and pour myself a bowl of cereal, slowing munching away at the food in a daze.
I'm not really hungry right now, but I know how important breakfast is. Especially to this family, who treat breakfast as if it is a god.
King breakfast of the Bolivi household.
I internally snort at the thought, and end up choking on my food.
Everyone looks at me strangely, but no one decides to say anything. Thank god.
Who knows what I would have said. It's embarrassing to just think about.
When I have finished, I jump up from my spot at a barstool.
"I dibs shotgun!" I shout out, sprinting towards the garage door.
"Stupid little child," Charlie scolds unhappily.
Sucks to suck.
A/N: Hey guys, thank you so much for reading. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE VOTE, COMMENT, AND READ WHEN I GET A CHAPTER OUT TOMORROW. I have a plan for where this book is going, I just need a little support. Also, thank you very much for 86700 reads and over 3k votes - 3451 votes - (I know that it's not a lot,) but to me, it means the world. Keep slaying in life, and I will see you tomorrow night- or day depending on where you live- when I update tomorrow. Bye <3