Her brothers, three little balls of energy and terribly annoying tricksters, sprinting around the room in circles while screaming and fighting.
Her father, an abusive alcoholic, sitting by the tv smoking a cigar and swigging on a bottle of whiskey.
Her mother, mentally ill but pure at heart, shaking slightly while adding salt to the bubbling mush on the stove, unsure of how to cope with the racket around her.
Her, a lonely seventeen year old, who couldn't handle this family anymore and without thinking sprinted out the front door and onto the streets of Paris.
