YOUTH

I am truly sorry if there is grammar and spelling mistakes but I don't really care. I love to write and that's what matters to me. Besides, there is no point of me correcting my mistakes when I know there will still be mistake even if I do edit.

I hope you enjoy. The beginning chapters are more of an intro to the family and characters. I have most of it planned out already.

p.s check-out my youtube clip on the side. I will be publishing a video on the characters for the first chapters.

Comment, vote, follow and read!!! Enjoy :D

I remember the day all too well. It must have been the middle of winter. The air was brutal like the bite of a wolf. No matter what you did, you would always have that numb cold feeling in your toes and fingers. Everything was cast into an icy beautifully cruel world, paused in time. I remember it being the coldest of winters I had ever experienced. I had been merely a girl. Twelve to be specific. My world seemed so small and closed at the time. I believed what people told me. I didn’t question it much. My life was simple. I experienced uncomplicated emotions, emotions I could handle and understand; anger, pain, sadness, happiness and childish love. The kind of love a child would have for objects, places and people. It was affectionate and adoring. If it made me happy I saw it as positive. I mean, what could not be positive about love?

It was a normal day as usual. Wake up, search through my draws and dirty laundry for anything warm, race down the stairs to the kitchen at five in the morning. I was young, I didn’t waste time. I liked to go everywhere in a desperate race. My older sisters and brother never understood my fiery enthusiasm for competition. I would always be up in the early hours in the morning in winter. That was the time dad and I would try to build a fire in the lounge room fireplace. We didn’t really need a fire (we had fully installed ventilation through the whole house) but there was something comforting and beautifully tranquil about a warm fire to sit around in the early hours of the morning. Dad and me didn’t really talk much at this time either. We didn’t need words to enjoy ourselves. It was our quite time together; me sitting on his lap while eating a bowl of cinnamon porridge we made. That’s the other thing we always did together; make a huge pot of porridge. We added everything we thought would be yummy: nuts, spices, sultanas, brown sugar and a thick slice of salted butter to top it off. It was our daily routine before the whole household of family members and sun were up, and before dad went to work. It was like a ceremony of the utmost sacredness and all done in silence with the accessional giggle from me when I get the porridge pot burnt (that’s happened more times than just once).

It was on that morning, as I sat on my fathers lap, watching the sun rise from the East that my dad looked down at me with a frown on his face. I had wondered what could possibly be the matter; everything looked so beautiful in that moment. The snow outside was slowly starting to twinkle and shine gold in the suns first rays of light. We had just eaten a full bowl of porridge and had mouth-burning hot chocolate together. The fire was crackling and roaring in the fireplace. At that moment, nothing could seems wrong. It was all perfect.

He let out a long sigh. I could tell something was troubling him. Was it something with work? With mum? I hope not. I hated it when mum and dad fought, though it was a rare occasion when they did. Maybe he had an argument with Jared again. That wasn’t unfamiliar. Dad and Jared had been constantly at each other’s necks recently. Jared always talked back at dad and would never miss an opportunity to argue with him. What had mum called Jared.... Mr contentious.Tabitha also had given him a much more direct and primitive nickname: fucktard. Though I knew she didn’t come up with that name. She wasn’t that smart.