Anything Can Happen (Zarry AU)

Chapter 1

I opened my eyes, and immediately shut them again. The light was blinding, and very much un-welcome, because it signified that today was really happening. Why couldn’t my life have just ended 14 years ago? I would have been totally content with myself. Actually, no, I wouldn’t have. That was a lie. It seemed as though everything in my life was a lie though, so I don’t know why telling the truth mattered anymore.

I rolled over in the bed, and my eyes fixed on the picture propped up on the nightstand. It contained me, my siblings, and my parents. It hurt to call them that, but it was the truth. 14 years ago on this very day, my parents gave me, my brother, and my sisters up for adoption. I was only 4 at the time, and had been told that mummy and daddy were just going on an extended vacation. But like always, I found out that was a lie, too.

After spending 2 years at the adoption agency, hoping and waiting for someone to take us, the manager of the company decided it’d be best to give us up to foster care. Hell, if no one wanted us at the adoption agency, I don’t know why he thought it’d be any different in a foster home. But anyway, he packed our stuff, and shipped us away to the Wilkinson family. And that’s when the lies started.

You see, my parents were world-known thieves. They looked to be compassionate people on the outside, but they were disgusting on the inside. They’ve looked people in the face, and killed them. Thinking about it made me sick. For years, they would let people into their lives; get close to them, make them think their friendship was real. Then they would strike, taking all the money and leave blood in its place. But a few drunken nights later, they had us five kids: me, Louis, Doniya, Waliyha, and Safaa. Me and my sisters shared the same tanned skin and dark hair, but Louis couldn’t be any more the opposite. He had light skin with feathery brown hair and brilliant blue eyes.

We found out later that my mum had cheated on my father. I guess when you tell lies your entire life, it gets into your marriage, too. My father later forgave her, but I wish he hadn’t. I wish he left her, and made her realize that stealing wasn’t an occupation to be involved with while children were in the picture. Maybe we’d be somewhere different. Maybe we’d all be together, minus my father, and live a semi-normal life. But no, of course that couldn’t happen. Louis went to live with his father, and changed his last name to match his true family.

We were put in multiple foster homes, moving at least three times a year to different families. The foster parents we got were always loving and kind, but just a little too curious for their own good. They would dig and dig, trying to get ahold of our parents so we could maintain a semi-normal relationship with them. But when they got just a bit too deep, we’d come home from school to find them dead, and start the process over again. We still, to this day, have no idea who the killer was. I assumed it was my parents, seeing as they could kill without feeling anything. I guess my parents cared enough to keep us out of trouble by killing those people, or maybe I was giving them too much credit, but it always seemed to make life harder. Being only 6 when I was put in my first home, I didn’t know what would happen, or how to deal with it emotionally. So I would get attached. And when things would start to go right, they took a mean left.

After 4 different homes, I stopped caring. I stopped letting them in, and built barriers that no one could cross. My sisters were the only ones who would even get my voice. But at that point, they were blunt answers to meaningless questions I didn’t care to respond to. They too stopped trying after a while, and it made things extremely easy. When we’d move to a new home, they’d explain that I was quiet and broken, and the parents wouldn’t try to break my walls. But of course, that had to change, too.

When I was 10, my sisters were re-adopted. Can you guess who adopted them? My parents! My real, biological, shithead parents! But no, they couldn’t take me in. I was a young boy that wasn’t very easy to communicate with, so they thought better of adopting me and just took the girls. To say I felt betrayed was an understatement. At least before I would participate in my foster parents’ lives, but all I did now was go to school, lock myself in my room, and go to the gym. Exercising took my mind off of things. It made me feel the burning in my body from building muscle, not the aching in my heart to see my sisters again. Even Louis would be acceptable, for he had been through the first few years with us. I didn’t eat much, either. I wouldn’t eat dinner or breakfast with the foster people, and I only occasionally ate the public school’s disgusting lunches.