The Endless Forever

"TURN THAT RUBBISH OFF!" Dad bellowed up the stairs. I stopped swinging my hair around and stomped over to my CD player, hitting the volume button and blasting Bring Me The Horizon at full pelt.

Heavy footsteps slammed up the stairs.

"3..2..." I muttered quietly, waiting for him to barge in.

Right on cue, the door slammed open and Dad stormed in.

"Alexs!" He grabbed my CD player and switched the music off, his face red with fury. "I said, turn it OFF!"

"It is off." I pointed out.

"It's off because I turned it off, and you disobeyed me when I said turn it off!" Dad yelled.

I sighed and turned around to sit on my bed.

I like my bed. It's very soft and the covers are black because black is my favorite colour. It reminds me of nothing, like when people scream or shout at me I close my eyes so I can't see anything and I can concentrate on the darkness that clouds my vision. It's soothing.

"Dont walk away from me when im talking to you, young lady!" I felt Dad grab my wrist and twist my arm around almost 270 degrees.

"Let go!" I screamed, and spun round, my left fist clenched to hit him.

"You are a disobedient child, and you need to be punished." Dad hissed, twisting my arm further round. I bit back a scream and kicked my foot into his shin and he let go immediately.

Sometimes mum says I dont know my own strength, but she is wrong. I do know my strength. It is very very strong. But she is not my real mother so she doesnt know me like my real mother would have done.

I jumped over Dad's crouched body as he rubbed his shin tenderly, and ran down the marble steps two at a time, jumping to the bottom seven steps up.

Mum walked through the glass door to my left, holding a small ceramic cup, decorated with tiny blue mushrooms and blooming roses, her small beady brown eyes darting to me as I sat in the pouncing position that my cat Fang likes to make before he jumps on an innocent little rodent taking crumbs home to their little house.

"Goodness gracious Alexs." She says, with a forced smile on her wrinkly face. "Get up off the floor, darling."

She choked on the word "darling." It was hard for her because she did not like me. Or my older brother Daniel, who is 19 and my actual blood related brother, but he only ever comes round once a month and when he does, mum tries to shoo him out because she doesnt like his tattoos or his piercings, and neither does Dad.

I am fascinated by Danny's ink magic. He has 27 stars running down his shoulder to the tip of his index finger and a crucifix wrapped in thorns across his chest, torn angel wings across his wrists, my name on his palm and stitches all the way down his back. He also has snake bites, earrings all down his ears, a stud in his eyebrow and piercings in his dimples.

Our adoptive father made no effort to disguise his disgust when Daniel, 18 years old and perpetually smashed staggered through the double oak doors of the huge house, shirtless and covered in tattoos. I however, could not stop staring and blurted out that I wanted just as many as he had (which did not make my adoptive mother a happy person at all)

"Dad was trying to hit me." I stood up, and waltzed past her into the lounge, throwing myself onto the glaring red plush sofa.

Mum wasnt the kind of person for dark colours. So that made me a huge disappointment. She wants me to wear skirts and frilly tops and giggle and brush my hair. I do brush my hair, im not a raggamuffin, I just straighten it and put gel on it. It's not that bad. Im a disappointment because I wear black and have black hair and always wear hoodies and never go outside unless it's school and listen to Green Day and Black Veil Brides and Suicide Silence and Asking Alexandria and All Time Low and Pierce The Veil and Sleeping With Sirens and My Chemical Romance and Bring Me The Horizon and Blood On The Dance Floor and Motionless In White, just like my brother does.

And mum always says that shes unlucky because she wants two normal kids but instead she got "stuck" with the two emo kids that no one else wanted, but she didn't get lumbered with us because she picked us when Danny was 6 and I was still a baby so I fail to see how she got stuck with us because she can still give us back to Madam Tacey, but id rather not go back there thank you very much.

"ALEXS!" Dad's deep voice echoed through the house and his huge feet thumping down the stairs.

I laid back, swinging my feet over the arm of the sofa and chip away at my black nail polish with my teeth.

"How very dare you assault me!" Dad hollers, spit flying off his lips as he slams the glass door open. Mum lunges to grab the door before it shatters to a million pieces.

Mum and Dad could not be more different looks wise. Mum was tall and skinny with gnarled fingers and threaded eyebrows and short chestnut hair that only sat a few millimetres longer than her ears and a tiny puckered mouth that looked like a chickens bum. She always wore floral dresses and cardigans and brown leather lace up shoes with skin colour tights.

Dad, on the other hand was short and fat. He had a moustache that looked like a fat furry caterpillar had somehow crawled into his face and got stuck there. He had a greasy comb over and a boring grey shirt with black ironed trousers that never had a single crease. In some ways, he looked rather like Uncle Vernon from Harry Potter.

"Calm down Timothy." Mum sad cooly, stroking his plump arm.

"Susan, this child is ignorant. I asked her to turn that tasteless screaming that she listens to down and she refused."

"Actually," I stretched my arms out. "You said, and I quote 'TURN THAT RUBBISH OFF!' So you are lying."

"Do you see, Susan? Calling me a liar, in my own house!" Dad huffed, his small piggy eyes staring at me furiously. I smiled sweetly, blinking my icy grey eyes.

"Oh Alexs, why can't you be normal and obedient and listen to nice music, like One Direction?" Mum sighed.

I had to fight back the urge to vomit all over her expensive rug. You'd never catch me near One Direction. Never.