I'm really fucked up. No joke, I really am. Really, it's a miracle that I'm even alive today.

The only people I can truly count on are my siblings and my twin cousins. It will be a cold day in hell when I trust my mother. She's a psychologist, a very famous and rich one. She helps people with their family issues, yet she is so oblivious to her own. All she cares about is her second husband and her four year old twin girls. I'm sure she was ecstatic when our father died. Reason number one: she got all his money, which was a lot. Reason number two: she got to marry her second husband. She didn't care about her son becoming severely autistic or her daughter becoming dangerously skinny or her son being the most manipulative person you will ever meet or her daughter leaving the house for days at a time. Nothing mattered to her; we were symbols of her past that she did not want to remember. To the public she was the widow of one of the musicians in the fatal 27 club.

My father was one of the only people I truly care about. He was 18 when he started out his band, Colonel Kernel. He married my mother at 20 and at 23 he had my siblings and me. But he was a dangerous drug addict; he was addicted to meth and cocaine. He tried to sober up and tried to be a good father. He would win these awards and go to the ceremony completely wasted. No one ever noticed. One day he was playing hide and seek with the four of us. I was hiding in a small box in the corner of his room. The box had a small hole that I could see through. I waited until someone would find me. He came in and looked around. He didn't see me hiding.

He took out a notebook and ripped out some pages and put it next to him. Then he took out a syringe, prescription pills, vodka, what I assumed to be meth, and cocaine. He shot up the meth and snorted the line of cocaine. Then he took the full bottle of pills and swallowed them with a whole bottle of vodka. Then he lay down on the bed. After what seemed to be about an hour, he got up again and repeated the process. He repeated it three times. After the third time, he never woke up. I was getting cramped up in the box so I got out and tried to wake him up. He didn't wake up so I went downstairs to get my siblings. When they failed, we went to get our nanny, Kathryn. She seemed to understand what happened immediately and she had tears in her eyes and she told us to go to our rooms. We all just sat on the floor of my room, waiting to see what would happen.

Finally, my mother came into the room, looking very sad. She hugged us and said in a monotone voice, "your father has died." The way she said it, made me instantly hate her. At the last word, she seemed almost happy that the sentence she said was true. We had to leave the house after that and we stayed at a friend's house. Everyone kept saying, "Poor Alix, she has to care for her children alone. And the children will grow up without a father. Tsk, tsk." This all happened when I was four.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm a quadruplet. The youngest and smallest out of four.

The oldest is Honore; she is tall and has green eyes and brown hair that reaches her shoulders. She is the artistic one in the family, with drawing and photography being her strong suits. We have no idea what is her sexuality. We're pretty sure she's bisexual, but she won't answer our questions. She usually dresses in tight clothes with fashionable blazers. Blazers are her signature, and no outfit to her is complete without it. Prefers weed.

The oldest boy is Skandar. He is almost six feet tall and has an unruly mess of wavy black hair. He looks like a male version of Honore, excluding the eyes. His eyes are a caramel brown. After dad's death, he became severely autistic. He doesn't talk to anyone. But we all know what he means by his facial expressions. We can rely on him. He has everything, when we lost our wallet; he always has the spare 100 bucks. Doesn't really do drugs, but drinks.

Then there's Tamir. He is very charismatic, manipulative, charming and one of my best friends. He's tall, over six feet tall and has brown eyes and caramel brown hair. All the girls at every school we have been to always want him. He can basically get away with anything, including murder. He's that good. Doesn't do much drugs, as he says that you show your true colors while high.

I've lived with my cousins Violet and Xavier ever since my dad died. They look somewhat alike, from their blonde hair and to their blue eyes. They are extremely loyal. If you are their friends, congratulations. If you're their enemy, good luck with having a calm life. They try anything.

Then there's me, Maxine, which is a shit name. I'm nearly five feet tall, which I hate. I have caramel brown hair and brown eyes, like Tamir. I don't like eating… which means that I am a binge eater. No one really notices it, since I do eat vast amounts of food. Everyone thinks that I have a fast metabolism. They're so wrong. I don't have a low self esteem; it's just that I want to be skinny. I could really care less if you were the finest bitch in the room. I guess you could describe me as someone you always want to protect, even if you don't know me.

After my father's death, I lived in Oxford, England until I was 13. My mother decided to move to her hometown, San Francisco. The boys attended St. Benedict while the girls visited St. Scholastica. They are across the street from each other. There are also the most elite private school in the Bay Area. So you had to either get a scholarship or be really rich to pay. They had a lot of scholarship people there but there exceptions like us. Our group was the outcasts of the school. Needless to say, we were all wild. Tamir had a girlfriend named Roxie, but they were never always faithful with each other. Honore would experiment with different people. Skandar was quiet. Violet was being a bad girl. Xavier was a party boy. I had an affair with my English teacher and became a binge eater.

There were wild parties every night, drugs and alcohol galore. It is a wonder that no one died. Immediately, at least. But we got out of control and we left sloppy tracks behind us. My mother found out and went ape shit crazy. She was yelling that my father would be ashamed etcetera. She sent everyone except Skandar to rehab. I had to stay the longest because I was going for drug abuse and eating disorders. But when you have a psychologist as a mother, you learn when to ask the right questions and how to answer them correctly. So we all got out and we needed a new start. (Her words, not mine.)

So she randomly picked out a town in Washington. It's called Forks. When she told us we all had the same reaction, "you are fucking joking right?"

She was not amused. She continued that the town was going to be a vacation home for us, but know it would be our permanent residence. The people living there are: Tamir, Skandar, Honore, Violet, Xavier, our nanny Siobhan (Who is a drunk), our chef Thomas, our maid Carole, and me. I thanked the heavens that she wasn't coming.

It's our last day at our schools in California. It's September 15th, and I am 14 years old. Pretty young, right?

"I'm going to miss you so much!" my best friend Rhonda said. Rhonda was one of the more conservative people at the school. She said that she didn't like the effects drugs made on her. It didn't help her concentrate, which was not good because she has crazy Asian parents that want her to get a 4.0 each semester. Again, her words not mine. Rhonda is taller than me, not by much, and has long black hair. She has a creamy complexion with a strange red tint. I once told her, while drunk, that she was my girl crush. Now whenever she introduces me to strangers she says, "this is Maxine, I'm her girl crush." I used to get mad, put now I'm okay with it.

"It's going to be boring without you guys here," Roxie followed. She was tall and graceful with legs that stretched out for miles. She is very pretty and has blue eyes and short wavy brown hair that reaches her chin. She had a modeling contract with Gap and Abercrombie & Fitch, the two stores that I hated. She hated them too, but a modeling job's a job. I was going to miss all of them, even the bitch Karen whose life ambition was to fuck up all of our lives. I wouldn't blame her though; we totally trashed her house one time. She couldn't hide her joy when she heard we were moving.

Since California and Washington were only a state away and we were rich, they would visit on weekends. "When we visit, we definitely have to get fucked up somewhere. For old time's sake. I'm sure that my cousin Vanessa will let us hang with her crowd for parties," Roxie said, trying to sound hopeful. The day seemed to pass by so quickly and we desperately did not want to move. We all said our goodbyes, not knowing if we would see each other again. These people are my family. Tears escaped involuntarily out of all of our eyes. We said goodbye to our group, which we affection ally called Team 69. Our members are: Tamir, Skandar, Roxie, Rhonda, Honore, Violet, Xavier, George, Monique, Samee, Mahree, Michael, Nielsen, Nicholas, and me. I'll never forget them and they are irreplaceable.

I am sure that I am going to hate this town.

Throughout the story, I will have many flashbacks of Ione and her batshit crazy adventures. I also have pictures on my profile, if you are interested. I must say, some things that they did would make the fictional cast of Skins blush.

Honore is pronounced as on-or-ree

_Arianna! (Also known as Huzzah!)