Managed Misfits

Managed Misfits:

Created with care, love for one being, and inspired by my clan. Aka Directioners.

Please comment, vote... enjoy <3

CHAPTER 1:

"There must be consequences for what he did Mother!"

"And there will be, Iris, there will be."

The past week at our house in Seattle Washington, has been insanely crazy, especially since yesterday when my devil of a brother Alex, threw a gallon of bleach at my newly graduated sister, Iris. Her gown was red, before it was white, and her hair was black, before it was pukey looking blonde.

Not that she didn't deserve it.

"Veronica stop staring into space, and help me with these boxes please." Mom glares at me, her blue eyes tearing me to seams.

"Mommmm why do we have to move?" Beatrice, my younger sister of twelve runs into the kitchen, her hair...a mop, and food-of god knows what- stuck in her teeth. Seven of us. Seven kids and that hasn't stopped Mom yet, eighth on the way, as announced last night.

My damaged and uncontrollable family list:

Sadly this is what it takes to describe our family.

Mom- Cathy (47)

Dad- Victor (48)

Samuel (22)

Iris (18)

Veronica (me-17)

Lacey and Sarah (twins- 14)

Beatrice (12)

Alex (9)

Who knows who (0)

My family is supposed to be small, why can't it be small?

"Everyone! Here we go! Into the car we go!" Mom piles everyone into our two cars. An ugly minivan and a truck, which no one is allowed to ride in accept me, and Dad of course. The moving trucks pull out of our tall white house, as do we. Finally, we are leaving.

"So kiddo, you excited?" I sit with Dad in his truck and nod slightly, even though this means a whole new school, whole new friend group, and whole new house. "Why don't you wear shorts Ron, its 90 degrees out and you're in black skinny jeans?"

"Yeah, Dad, I am."

"I'm just saying, New York is going to be hot."

"So is Seattle, you know I am capable of telling the weather."

"Suit yourself."

I pull out my headphones and absorb the sound of loud drums and voices, the sounds that calm me.

My hair is pulled into a knotted pony tail, a black and white t-shirt and my favorite black Doc Martens on my feet. My make-up slightly smudged in the corner of my eyes, which doesn't bother me until about three hours later when we pull into a gas station. Three of the hottest boys sit on the curb sipping beers and smoking god knows what.

"Hey kiddo, no, we're here for gas, not hook ups." Dad gives me the eye and nods towards the group of guys.

"Come on Dadddd!" I groan jokingly, "let me just go talk to them for like three minutes,"

"Two." Dad groans and starts filling the Truck's tank.

"Hey girl, want a hit?" one guy offers handing me a joint. I nod warily and take it from him absorbing in the high.

I sit with them for a minute leaning against the building.

"Ronnie, time to go!" my Dad yells from the car.