As the sun shines through the makeshift house, the beams of light waking up the second-eldest child, he squirms as he feels shivers run up his spine. He was a young boy, rounding to the age of 14. He was short and skinny, barely looking like he was 11. He had messy, badly cut brown hair, which seemed to perfectly accompany his beautiful deep brown, almost black eyes. If it weren't for his soot-covered body or his yellowish-pale skin, or his ribs sticking out, he would be considered drop-dead gorgeous. But he wasn't drop-dead gorgeous. The soot, the yellowish skin, and the prominent ribs were all still there, due to his lack of food, water, and general well being. His name was Wilbur Pandell.
Wilbur glances over to his other siblings and notices almost instantly that the eldest is gone. He wasn't all that concerned about it, though, because this happened on an almost daily basis. He knew that his older brother was out catching fish, or at the market, or at one of his many jobs. That's just what his siblings had to do if they wanted to survive. The world is a cold and uncaring place, only making it easy for those who were born into good lives. Everyone else? They would rot.
His older brother would also be considered beautiful if it weren't for his crooked teeth, or his acne covered skin or his dirty clothes. But he still, unfortunately, had all of those traits. He has golden, wavy hair that reached his chin, and light blue eyes. His name was Phill Pandell. He was the oldest, at the age of 17. He worked hard for his family, taking up 3 jobs and having to catch and cook food from the forest around their 'home'.
As Wilbur came back to reality, he looked over to his other brothers and sighed faintly. They were both cuddling together, trying to share as much body heat as possible. Wilbur softly removed his sweatshirt that he wore to stay as warm as possible, and draped it over the younger boys. He grasped the blankets that they all shared and wrapped them tightly around his brothers, before grabbing some extra clothes and walking across the boxcar they lived in and changed behind a curtain that Phill had set up when they first began to live there.
Wilbur grabs his dirty clothes, and closes the boxcar door and window, but not before lighting a candle so it wouldn't be completely dark when his brothers woke up.
The third oldest brother had unnatural pink hair, which was always adorned with a cardboard golden crown, made by the youngest Pandell sibling. He was 9, with dark brown eyes, ones that perfectly matched Wilburs. He would also, like his older siblings, be considered cute if he didn't have his cold, dead eyes, or his completely monotone voice, or his dirt-stained nails. He never shared his real name and went by Techno Pandell.
Then there was the youngest sibling, a 7-year-old child with blond hair that was always somehow covered in dirt. He had bright, almost turquoise eyes. He was unlike his other siblings because everyone considered him adorable. Everyone felt much worse for a dirty 7-year-old than they did for anyone above the age of 8. His name was Tommy Pandell.
As Wilbur reaches the river, he notices his eldest brother, Phill, holding a bucket and a fishing rod. He smiles as he walks up to him, noticing the gleeful grin on his face. "You catch a bunch of fish, Phil?" Wilbur asks, hope evident in his tone. Phil smiles brightly, and softly lifts the bucket as he speaks.
"Yep, caught about 9. For now, we'll leave some in this bucket until we're ready to cook them because we don't want them to go bad." Phil states, smiling proudly. Wilbur gives him a concerned look, panic in his eyes.
"9? Jesus Phil, how long have you been out here?" Wilbur questions, looking like he didn't really want the answer to that question. Phil chuckles softly, giving Wilbur a sad smile.
"That's not your issue to worry about, Will. I'll wash the clothes, you take the fish up and start cooking one of them, and about halfway through wake up Tommy and Techno, okay?" Phil orders, making sure to sound softer when telling him what to do.
