The Rosett Legacy

Chapter 1

There is a day in everyone's life which changes their future and the meaning of their past. That particular day was on 1 March 2015. Being kicked out of your own house due to your sister's boyfriend was my epic new low. If you would have told me that my family would choose a complete stranger over me a few months ago, I would have laughed at your face and call you a wanker. I liked to think, over the last few months, my view on my family had changed drastically and matured. Furthermore, I thought my relationship with them was getting better. Just goes to prove the point that something broken can't be fixed with sticky tape and staples.

I stood outside my semi-detached house on Gilbert Street. Oliver dragged me out into the rain. I didn't protest. How could I? They thought that I caused all the mess. With death looming all the time in the house, I was not surprised they would blame everything on one individual. I was just surprised that the individual was me. Jessica had packed my stuff that I ever had in two large red wheelie suitcases. She kicked the bags out the door and they landed in a muddy puddle on our driveway. I was surprised she was this quick to pack my stuff; I mean she's the girl who takes a whole day to paint her nails. To say Oliver and Jessica are two people from the same cloth is a huge understatement. They are inseparable twins. If one gets hurt the other retaliates and gets revenge for the one who got hurt; if one is in pain the other will share some of the pain. You know, the cheesy kid of siblings.

It didn't help that they now hated me. To think of it, I am the easiest to hate in the whole family. Being the unwanted adopted child, lifes gotta suck. You want to know what the Rosetts consist of. Well they are the dead Mr and Mrs Rosett. Then there is the oldest and adopted Jonas Azikiwe Rosett, from African origins. Then there is me, second oldest, the adopted Indian D.U.F.F., Matasha Riah Rosett. And finally the twins, the most loved by everyone: Oliver and Jessica Rosett. The only unadopted ones. I really did not want to think why the adult Rosetts wanted to adopt me in the first place. The kicking of my ass which was occuring metaphorically outside was bringing bad memories.

Trying to hold my tears back, I walked up to my waterlogged suitcases. Snot was trying to escape 'my red nose, I held it back only just. Picking up my suitcases, I got out the rocky driveway and started my long trek to somewhere. I hesitated when I reached the gates, looking back to see the other Rosetts waiting for me to leave. Oliver stood straightly, dripping in the rain. I cowered when he brought his 6ft 2in body stomping my way. And abruptly opened the gates. Not looking at me he kept the rusted iron open. Jason looked sorry standing just outside the gates, eyes meeting mine. I hoped one of them would stop me, "Mat, don't leave," That was just me hoping for a miracle. An impossible miracle.

I covered my face, lifting my hoodie, and left the small, grizzled, Tudor-styled house. After walking a few minutes down the road, I looked back. With no sun it was a grey morning, but the rain added dread. Foreshadowing much! It was awful and I dragging my suitcases on the cracked pavement did not help either. Every few seconds the heavy pieces of shit would turn or fall from my hands. I would have to go through the whole process of turning back and picking them up again. And I didn't want to repeat the exercise again and again. I'd rather think about my next step, cause the last time I checked, I had nowhere to live and no means of getting any food. I checked my jeans pocket for my Microsoft Lumia 640. That phone was my life. It was the only thing which would not break because of me. I tried to be careful so the phone would not slip from my hands and ruin my ruined life even more. I looked through the contacts to find someone who I could call for help.

Scrolling down the list, I could see which people I could call:

Bastardy. The reason I am in this mess to begin with.

Bitch. Never in my entire life am I calling that number.

Home. Like that exists anymore.