As much as my foster parents wish, I don't consider them my parents. They see me on this path and don't even try to help. They see my sisters on dark paths and turn a blind eye. They, no matter how much they try, are not my real family. I only need two people. Arianna and Ava.
We're 100% Polish. That's about as white as it gets. We're porcelain pale, have the same silvery gray eyes, and platinum blond hair. There's one difference. My sisters are stunning, and I am, at best, meh.
Ari is sixteen, but she looks maybe twenty. Five-seven, ruler straight blond hair in a scene cut, and softer facial features make her look cherubic and dangerous at the same time. I swear, the girl lives in band tees, ripped tanks, skinnies, short shorts, and her Docs. Oh, and of course the hipster glasses and suspenders. I love Ari to death, but she is a hypocrite. She's always telling Ava and me to stay in school, and on the right path. Well, guess what? Every night around twelve, she goes out to party in the streets of the Bronx. I've seen the hidden packs of Camels, and I know she's a smoker. She doesn't just dabble either. Arianna can go through a pack in two days, and somehow the fosters haven't noticed. Somehow she's managed to keep her grades up, and she's probably the most responsible, studious, and serious of my sisters and I. It's a shame she's filling her lungs with tar. If she dies, what will Ava and I do?
There's Ava. Her and I look rather alike, more than me and Arianna. She's got darker, longer honey blond hair, and a sweet thin lipped smile. She's only ten, but she's quite the girly fashionista (and kind of a drama queen) already. At least she was, before Grandpa started molesting us. She's stopped being loud and outgoing, wearing her favorite little outfits (always purple and white) and being the sophisticated, airy, generous little girl she was. Now she perfers baggy black clothes, keeping her hair in her delicate almond shaped eyes, and withdrawing herself. She's been asking Ari and me more and more about dying, hell, and demons. She's drawn some pretty disturbing pictures, like a man on fire, a heart covered in ice, and scariest of all, a self portrait with an axe in her head. Ava's had a bit of an unhealthy obsession with guns and zombies, and worst, the type of thing you never want your little sister to be exposed to: suicide.
That leaves me, Autumn. I'm fairly average looking, skinny, really long dark blonde hair that reaches my lower back (it's a long process when I wash it), and my best feature would have to be my butt. That's how I got in the business, Jay talked me into a trick after slapping it. At thirteen, I'm kind of a tomboy. I love sports, especially running, but my secret passion's theater. I've never been able to take a lesson, but after a really hard day, I imagine myself as a forlorn singer, up onstage. I'm kind of loud, blunt, and sarcastic, but if you get on my good side, I'll be loyal to you forever. That's my second of my two good qualities. My first is my body. It's all I'm worth, if I can't do anything right, at least I can please guys, you know? And I'm providing for my family. I'm not hooked on drugs, so everything's okay... Right?
Oh, God, I wish.
