SOLD

Chapter Five

(AN: Please stop saying that this story is made up!!! It's not it's based on my real life story!! Names have been changed to protect the identities of the people involved.) 

I'm not sure what I expected from a rat who claimed to cook, but it wasn't this. With less than 12 hours before the boys would demand their next meal of something other than boxed mac and cheese of a non-specific brand, we had started to work. It had been fine at first; we'd decided on my all-time favorite meal: meat pies and Remy had perched atop my head to direct me in how to make them through tugs at my wavy light brown with natural gold highlights locks. But then everything had gone south when he'd pulled out the industrial-grade rat poison. 

"Lueghok, Dueghwbuerrry," He said in his heavy french turning his small black rat eyes to meant my aquamarine ocular viewing devices, "I fougernd theegyxs in deeughx cabigenzt, thweegyz weeghll yushgse it agaisxnst moi--"

"So we must use it against them first," I finished. Is this what my life had come to murder? A single tear slipped down my face but I didn't care because I was naturally beautiful and had no need for makeup ever.

(AN 2: the second half of this chapter is dedicated to my biggest fans sam & ben. thank you for supporting me through all of the hardships in my life that are chronicled in this novel & encouraging me to go through with writing it xoxo)

Up to this point in my story, I have not mentioned my father. You may be reading this and thinking that he died in a horrible accident or the war. Maybe you thought this because it is what I'd spent the past seventeen years telling everyone, but you'd be wrong. The truth is I know nothing about my father because my mother banned any mention of him whatsoever. I guess some part of me thought it was better to portray him as a normal man that died or some sort of bootlicking war criminal like my friends dads than tell the truth that I knew nothing about him. Except, there's one more thing thing: on my sixteenth birthday I recieved a card I have reason to believe was from him. I never got to read it since my mom immediately tore it up while puffing out cherry scented cloud after cloud from her newest vape, but the one thing I did see was the return address: a monastory in Italy. 

As I turned away from Remy Ratatouille my eyes landed on an envelope sitting no the counter. An envelope with the same return address. I let out a strangled gasp and took a step backwards directly into our freshly prepared and rat poisoned chicken alfredo. 

"EUI FOUXL!" Remy squawked as four of the five boys (the better four so no Liam) ran into the kitchen to see what the commotion was about. 

"Right, what's all this then, bruv?" Asked Louis, surveying the scene of cheesey noodles, chicken, and rat poison smeared all over the floor and a rat drowning in French inside them. 

I picked up the envelope and turned to face them, "Where is this from?" My translucent mint green global external organs I used to view the word around filled with distress and tears, "Do you know my dad?" 

The boys exchanged a worried look.