AZALEA

Chapter 1

A Z A L E A ' S   P O V

 The first thing I hear when I gain conscious thought is the stupid sleep ruiner that sits on the floor beside my mattress. Then I realise I actually need to turn it off now before I receive a consequence of waking father up early. That's when I also realise that I'm under the heavy arm of my brother. The memories of last night come flooding back again.

I thought maybe he would forget it was the 5th of the month for once.

When does he ever forget?

Fucking never, yeah, I know.

I attempt to roll out from under the arm of Henri Dubois so I can get ready for the day. He groans in his sleep, and I freeze all movements.

Don't even breathe. Quiet, it's okay. He's still asleep.

I continue my route to the corner of my shoebox room where my clothes are folded. My very scarce wardrobe consists of two pairs of baggy joggers, two massively oversized jumpers and three t-shirts. Any other pieces of clothing are lingerie that Henri makes me wear. I think Marc must've bought it honestly because Henri doesn't even care, he just takes whatever he wants from me. Marc however likes seeing our brother rip it off of me-

And now you're throwing up, well done. Why would you even think about it?! You're an idiot sometimes. No actually, all the time!

Once the small amount food I consumed two days ago is being flushed down the toilet, I stand up and brush my teeth before putting on a pair of joggers and a jumper. I head down the stairs, making sure to keep my footsteps as light as possible.

Once I reach the kitchen, I see the light is already on meaning mama has already started on breakfast. I open the door to see her back facing me whilst she stands in front of the cooker, most likely frying bacon or eggs.

"Bonjour mama, how did you sleep last night?" I question, keeping my voice juts past a whisper. The last ting either of us need is for any of the Dubois men to wake up before breakfast is ready. I give her a quick hug being careful not to disturb any injuries she may have this morning.

"I'm okay dorogoy, how about you?" She replies in the same tone. As she speaks, I go about getting the plates and cutlery to set three places on the table: my father and two brothers. Me and mama are on very strict diets? They're not really diets but that's what Père calls it, and I wouldn't know what else to name them. Anyways, we're only really allowed one meal every 48 hours, a child sized portion. However, it's still food and I'm grateful for it no matter how little it is.

"It was okay. I passed out pretty early on, so I don't really remember much. Dieu merci." I reply. By now the bacon and eggs are ready and the bread that was being toasted is finished too. I plate to the food and let mama have a seat. I know she's been on her feet all morning all ready, it's literally only just coming up to 6am.

I tell mama that I'm going to wake Henri and Marc for breakfast, and she does the same to Louis. It's the same routine every morning; we make breakfast and then wake the respective men; we stand to the side as they assess the food. If they decide it's good enough then we are on standby for the rest of breakfast. If the food isn't up to standard, we receive our consequences.

Each wrongdoing has an allocated 'consequence'. A mistake at breakfast equals a whipping with Père's belt. It is the harshest consequence because 'breakfast is the most important meal of the day'

I push open the door to my 'room', which would be more suited as a cupboard, and make my way towards my brother, Henri.

"Henri, breakfast is ready. Wake up, please." I speak while stroking back his hair.