AUTHOR'S NOTES

Hi, everyone, this is Kyle here, and I brought the first M rated story I post. I'm excited to this SOB, but I'm also nervous, so it's all good :)

Anyways, the idea of this story came to me at a sudden moment while I was eating cereal and browsing the internet. It came to me so hard I choked on my food (I'm okay, though), and instantly ran to my laptop and started writing. Of course, there will be lemons in this story, and there will be Loudcest, just not as much as you wish to see (perverts :P).

Now, to make things clear, I will list the names of the sin kids, their ages, and their genderbent names.

Loan - Lone (21)

Liena - Lionel (19)

Lyra - Lewis (17)

Liby - LeBron (16)

Lacy - Lace (15)

Lupa - Luka (14)

Lemy - Lita (13)

Leia - Leo (11)

Lizy - Lizbon (6)

Lulu - Luscious (?)

There. Now, you know the names. If you wish to see the appearances of the sin kids as GBs, check out our Tumblr page and we'll post the picture later.

One more thing: This story is inspired by the works of other authors and artists such as Flagg1991, Trillhouse, Lioxdz, 13InkHeart13, and of course, Patanu.

Big shoutout to Cryandia and Captain Dodge for helping me develop Lita's personality and organize the timeline of events. Now, I'm not gonna stall any longer, so just get right to it.


It's hard, you know. Living with nine brothers. It's even harder when Dad's rarely home. What's even harder is that dad's the only one in the family who understands and knows how I feel, then makes me feel better. I can cope with that, though. Dad leaves to work so he can support me and Lewy, so I know he's doing it for us. What I can't cope with is that Mom spends all day giving my brothers all the attention in the world, and barely has the time of day to look at me and say hey, Lita. It just makes me so mad I can't even stay in the same house with her or I might snap at someone unlucky enough to look at me wrong.

Lita Loud is a thirteen year old girl with dark brown eyes, freckled cheeks, and dirty blonde hair that reached just beneath her shoulders. She wore a black V-neck tank top that hugged the developing curves of her body under a dark green vest jacket, black earrings, and a green band with a yellow cowskull design hanging loosely around her neck. She matched that with dark purple tight jeans, a white belt, and black leather boots that covered her feet up to the bottom of her knees. What made her stand out the most were the thorny stem tattoos coiling around her bare arms from her shoulders down to her hands, which were covered in black leather fingerless gloves.

Presently, she was walking down the sidewalk of Jensen street under the afternoon sun, her hands inside the pockets of her jacket with white headphones in her ears blasting music, the wire leading to her left jacket pocket. Remember when she said it makes her mad when mom gives all her attention to her brothers and spares none for her? Today's one of those days. So, unless you don't want missing front teeth, you'd leave her be. Well, it wasn't the only reason why she needed to get out of the house. Last night, while Lace was bragging about how he scored three goals in a soccer match yesterday and Mom kissing his ass (Big woop), Lita snuck out of the dining room unnoticed (as if they ever notice) and retired to her room, where she finished what's left of her moonshine bottle. You'll probably say that a girl my age shouldn't be drinking alcohol, well I tell you to mind your fucking business.

Also, me drinking is nothing compared to what my family is like. Check this: I have nine brothers, one dad and nine paternal uncles. Lotta uncles, I know, but the big deal about this is that they're also my maternal uncles. Connected the dots yet? My dad is also my uncle. And My brothers are also my nephews. Pretty fucked up, I know. You're still gonna tell me I shouldn't drink?

Presently, Lita was standing at the corner of the sidewalk, looking at the red light and waiting for it to turn green.

You probably think I'm an attention whore for complaining about not getting Mom to notice me. Maybe I am, but I have a pretty good reason for that, too. You see, because there's so many mouths to feed, Mom can't afford people to fix certain things in the house. Take the AC, for instance: It broke down last summer, and they would've gotten cooked if I didn't fix it. Uncle Leif helped, of course, but I did as much work as he did, and what do I get in return? A pat on the head and a good job, honey from Mom… Seriously? That's all I get for spending 3 hours in the hot basement, facing the risk of dehydration and spider bites and all I get is a pat on the head? Gee, thanks for patting me on the head like a dog, Mom. All that's left is a doggy treat.

The light turned green and she quickly crossed the street, nodding her head with the music in her ears.

And it's not just with Mom, you know. Aside from Dad and Lewy, almost no one in the house appreciates what I do. Lone, for example: He spends all day long playing his video games on his old consoles. Sometimes, he presses the buttons too hard and breaks them, and who fixes them? You guessed it; I do. And what do I get in return? A What took you so long?! Yelled at me and have them snatched out of my hands, like some hungry fatass at a McDonald's drive-thru window.

She was now crossing Hudson drive with Paulson Bolivar on her left. On the other end of the street was where she'd get her moonshine from. An old gas station that looks like a fucking ghost town with the cracked tarmac, rust covering the steel frame of the building, dirty windows, and the neon FLIP'S sign with the L completely missing, making it read FIP'S.

I hate this place, man. Of all the places I avoid, this is the place I'd rather die than go to. One reason is because how fucking filthy it is. I mean seriously, this place is even worse than Lone's side of his and Lio's bedroom. Well, back when Lio used to live with the rest of us. He now works as a preschool teacher. Good for him. The second –and most important– reason is because of the man running this dump. His name is Flip (Obviously), and if you look in the dictionary for the meaning of scumbag, you'll see a picture of his ugly fatass. The man would mock me and my brothers at any moment he can. At first, it used to hurt, but I'm just numb to it. You probably wonder why I –or my brothers– haven't taught him a lesson. Well, I guess I'm not as mean as you think I am, judgmental little prick. 'Sides, where will I go to buy moonshine if I made him disappear?

Lita pulled her hands out of her pockets and removed her headphones as she stood before Flip's food'N fuel.

I really hate coming here, but Flip's the only one in town who'd sell it to me. I know, He's a scumbag for selling moonshine to a minor, right?

She took a deep breath through her nostrils, and let it out in a deep sigh as she stepped forward, the doors splitting open as she approached. There he was, sitting behind the counter, reading a newspaper with his smelly feet resting on it. He lowered the newspaper at the sound of the doors open and close, and a scowl of disgust took form on his face the moment her saw who it was. Ugh, Lita grumbled inwardly, here we go again.

"Well, if it ain't the freak herself," he started, pulling his feet off the counter, "comin' here to filthy up my workplace with her Beverly Hillbilliness." He looked at her with a condescending smirk. You see what I have to deal with?

"I'm not happy to see you either, Flip." Lita retorted, not hiding the annoyance in her tone. "Just gimme what I came for so I can leave this dump you call workplace."

"Sorry," he started, leaning closer to her. She could see the white hair coming out of his nostrils. "But we don't serve clients with a tumbleweed for a family tree." He finished, whipping his head back, cackling as if he just said something funny.

Lita took a deep breath from her nostrils to calm her nerves. It's all worth it, Lita, she told herself, just let him have his fun. "Are you gonna sell me a bottle or do I have to find someone who doesn't waste my time?"

Flip's smile faded, and the scowl returned. "You're no fun." He grumbled, bowing down under the table and pulling out two bottles wrapped in paper bags and setting them down next to each other in front of her. Lita's mouth watered at the sight. She could almost taste the moonshine. "Then again, I bet getting in bed with you is no fun for your brothers either." And he broke into another fit of laughter.

Lita pulled a 50$ bill out of her left hip pocket and smacked it on the counter, reaching for a black plastic bag from the stack by the cash register, stuffing the bottles inside and wrapping it around them. "At least, they'd get some," She started, walking backwards towards the exit. "all you'll ever get is when you go fuck yourself, asshole." She flipped him off and with that, she left.

She hid the bottles beneath her jacket and trapped them between her arm and ribs. Flip is an asshole, yes, but I gotta admit that he sells the best moonshine around. Well, he's the only one who'd sell me some, so I dunno. It's still good if you ask me.

Using her free left arm as she walked, Lita pulled out a headphone and placed properly in her left ear, stuffing it back into her pocket and turning the Ipod on, more music in her ear.

It's funny, you know. Dad's the head guitarist in his band, and he's got a real passion for rock music and all its genres. Metal, rock'N roll, alternative, punk, etc. and Lewy has that same passion for it too, but me? Well, when I was 4 years old, Dad took me to one of his band practices and, much to his band's displease, I fell asleep when they started playing. LOL. They got so offended from a little girl falling asleep while they played they made Dad promise they won't let me watch them practice again. Fine, you guys were boring anyway, salty little bitches.

Look, I'm not saying that I don't like rock music. It's just that… how do I put this…? I don't really have a certain genre, I don't have a favorite artist, if it sounds good to me, I'll listen to it. Truth be told, most of the music I like is not rock music. I like music I can jam into when I'm drinking or working on fixing the AC when it inevitably breaks again. Either energetic and quick like Michael Jackson, or smooth and passionate like the Is-

Suddenly, the reflection of the bright sunlight struck Lita in the face, her eyes squinting. She gave a dirty look at-what-nearly-fucking-blinded-her, but stopped when she saw what it was, her eyes widening with surprise. "Holy shit." She smiled.

Sitting on the curb of the sidewalk near a trashcan was a vintage Husky glass door bar fridge with the glass facing her. The glass was full of scratches and rust was covering the corners of the metal frame. The paint was almost peeled off, except for a few red spots here and there. The metal coated wire shelf was inside too.

Lita's smile turned into a grin. This was exactly what she was looking for: A fridge for her moonshine, drinks, and shit she wants to keep cold. It looked broken, but that's okay; she can fix it. She walked closer to it, dropped to one knee and examined it up close. Let's see now, she thought as she started examining the fridge. The metal frame was indeed covered in rust beyond save, but that's okay, she could have uncle Leif make her a new one. The coils in the back had a little rust on them, but they didn't have any wholes in them. A little spray paint can handle that. She opened the door and an awful smell struck her nose, promptly whipping her head away with a gag as she slammed the door shut. Oh yeah, she thought, waving the smell away from her face, this thing needs cleaning from the inside. She looked back again for the wire and plug. She found the wire, but the plug was missing. No biggie, she can give it a new one.

She took a quick look at her surroundings, making sure no one's watching before she pulled the bottles wrapped with the plastic bag out from under her right armpit and quickly hid them in the cooler. She then took her jacket off and covered the cooler with it before picking it up and going on her way. Thanks for the free bar fridge, losers.


Twenty minutes later, Lita had finally reached the house in Franklin Avenue, her arms quivering and glistening with sweat while her face was covered in rivulets from it. Ten blocks ago, this bitch weighed 10 pounds give or take, now it might as well weigh seven fucking tons and she barely had the energy to move her own feet. But there's one rule Lita always follows when it comes to her brothers: Never show weakness. You see, being the only other girl, my brothers have this thing with them to treat me like a little baby if they ever see me tired or sick. Especially Lewy. He wouldn't even let me leave bed if I catch a cold and plays nurse all day. You probably think I should be thankful to have nine brothers who care about me, well I didn't say I hate it, but I don't like to feel weak and in need for protection. No, thank you, I can take care of myself.

After climbing the steps to the door, she took a moment to catch her breath before looking at the fridge hidden under her jacket. "You better fucking work," She told the fridge. The object said nothing. Good. There's gonna be a huge problem if it did.

Lita kicked the door twice with her right foot and waited. She could hear some noise inside, TV included, so someone must be in the living room. Mom had always been strict about leaving it on and going out of the room. The same went for the lights and AC. Power isn't cheap, she'd say.

Anger began to flow through her system and she gave stronger kicks to the door, leaving a few scrapes on it. "Open up!" She called.

Her ears caught the sound of footsteps approaching, and she began to feel her back hurting with her knees beginning to buckle. Hurry the fuck up!

The door opened, and uncle Lynn appeared. He was wearing a white T-shirt with red sleeves and 10K in red on the front and back of it, matching it with blue jeans and white NIKE tennis shoes. He had an annoyed look on his face, but quickly turned to a playful smirk once his eyes landed on her. "Hey there, Litty Bitty," He teased, "What's that?" He pointed at what she was carrying.

"A bar fridge I found on the sidewalk," She answered, a hint of venom in her voice with a scowl on her face. He knows damn well that she hates that nickname. "Can I come in?"

"I dunno," he shrugged his shoulders, "can you?" The smirk never leaving his face. She tried to shove him aside but barely moved him, he chuckled. She loved him, but sometimes, he can be a real pain in the ass. Looking at the living room, she found Lone, in his pijamas and a bathrobe, playing One of those RPG shoot-em-up-or-whatever video games he loves. Next to him was Lizbon, watching in wonder as monsters appeared on the screen. A faint smile took form on her lips. She would never say this out loud, but Lizy was her favorite brother. He was too precious for this world, and she'd protect him no matter what. Lita got a better grip on the chiller and began to make her way upstairs, making sure to secure her feet so she doesn't fall off and break an arm or a neck. Most importantly, the bottles. Yup, I'd break my neck to save those, you know what I mean? Of course you don't, but that's okay, no one really does.

Once she reached the top of the stairs, she went to the door in the middle of the hallway, which was positioned right in front of the stairs. She kicked it open to reveal her room. The walls were dark purple, covered with posters signed from bands and artists like Boys Will Be Boys, SMOOCH, Bullet For My Valentine, Danzig, Queens of the stone age, and her favorite, a signed poster of The Crystal Method, placed just above the headboard of her bed. Her bed was on the left, the headboard against the wall where the window is located, and a purple guitar with thorny stems painted all over it was hanging on the wall above it. Her work table was on the far right corner with a desk lamp on top of it, along with what seemed to be a torn-open amplifier of some sort and some tools. There was a keyboard that belonged to her Dad by the footboard of her bed against the wall. He gave it to her on her eleventh birthday. Between the work table and the closet on the right was her vanity. It wasn't fancy, but it did the trick for her. She walked to the bed, laid down the chiller with a grunt and flopped on her face next to it.

She stood still for a moment before she pushed herself up to a kneeling position, removing the jacket. Let's take a better look-

"Hey."

Lita tensed up at the sound. It was her older brother's monotone; He caught her off guard, which didn't happen very often. You could smell him from a mile away because of the stale smell of cigarette smoke that clung to him the way Leo clung to Mommy whenever he gets home from school. You'd take one whiff of him and you'd think this guy never washes his clothes. Aw man, do you shower in tobacco? I call him Joe Camel after the cigarette brand, you know? The brand? He doesn't like it, and one time, he tried to trip me in the hallway as I passed by, but it's okay. Guess who got a black eye after that? obviously, I got grounded for a week after the incident, but we made up and it's all water under the bridge. Look, I'm not a bully, I'm not a mean bitch to my brothers, I only give people what's coming to them. I love my brothers more than anything, but… Why am I even trying to explain myself? You probably think I'm a bully… Whatever, it's not like your opinion matters.

"Hi," Lita replied shortly, taking a glance over her shoulder. He was leaning against the doorframe, his hands buried inside the pockets of his black hooded jacket, a yellow and white two-tone undershirt beneath, with gray jeans to match. His white hair pooled around his head and his bangs covered his left eye (The one she punched that one time), and his freckled face began to show the early crop of pimples. He was fourteen, a year older than her. They were cool and all, but she wasn't fond of his Emo\goth\punk attitude he's got. She did tease him about it, but she never really hated him for it. She's just hoping he snaps out of this phase soon, because she really misses hanging out with him. other than Lewy, Luka had the most in common with Lita. Or so, she felt. They liked some of the same bands, some of the same songs, not to mention they both enjoy a good horror movie. The M rated horror movies, I mean. That kind that leaves you sleepless for a month?

Plus, I'm ashamed to admit, but… He's quite the handsome guy…

"What's that?" He asked, nodding at the cooler.

"My new Husky bar fridge," she answered with a crooked grin, "found this bad boy on my way back." She rubbed her palm in circles at the top of the rusty metal frame. "Can you believe someone threw this away?" She snickered while shaking her head.

Luka took a good look at it: The frame was covered in rust and dirty, the glass door was full of scratches, and the plug was missing. "Yes." Was his blunt answer.

Lita's smile faltered. "You know what they say," she started, looking back at the cooler. "One man's trash is another girl's treasure. Anyways, don't you have somewhere else to be?" That's just her way of saying Get lost, bitch politely.

He hummed, seeming to consider for a moment. "Actually, I do. I'm just waiting for Mom t-"

"Get out." Lita cut him off sullenly.

Luka blinked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Uh, what-"

"I said get out!" She snapped, not even looking back at him.

"Whatever." She heard him say, then the sound of footsteps moving away was heard. Once she was alone, she let out a deep sigh. I let it get to me again, she thought. She didn't mean to yell at him, but she couldn't help it. It's always the same Mommy this and Mommy that bullshit with them, and the fact that they keep rubbing it in her face only adds salt to the wound.

Lita felt a sting in her heart and swallowed around a lump in her throat. She got up, walked to the door and closed it in case of an accident. She then walked to the bed, picked up the fridge and placed it on her work table next to the torn-apart amp, taking a seat on the chair facing it. Right, she thought, undoing the bandana around her neck and using it to tie her hair back in a ponytail. It's just you and me now. She opened the top drawer, pulled out two screwdrivers –One square, the other regular– and began to unscrew the metal cover.

She stopped a moment after, lowered the screwdriver, grabbed the remote to the stereo on her nightstand and turned it on. The sound of drums began, followed by bass guitar from the speakers fitted on the top corners of the room. She nodded her head to the beat, a small smile creeping on her lips before she returned to unfastening the screws.

Billie Jean by Micheal Jackson

She was more like a beauty queen, from a movie scene

I said don't mind, but what do you mean I am the one?

Who will dance, in the floor, in a round

She said I am the one

Who will dance, on the floor, in a round

She told me her name was Billie Jean, as she caused a scene

Then every head turned with eyes that dreamed of being the one

Who will dance, on the floor, in a round

I'm really glad I got that stereo. I bought it from a thrift store for fifteen dollars. Fifteen! Can you believe that?! I mean, yeah, the CD player was busted and the audio output fuses were loose, but that wasn't hard to fix. All I needed was to change the motor for the CD player and some circuit welding to put the fuses in place.

People always told me be careful of what you do

And don't go around, breaking young girls' hearts (hooo~)

And mother always told me be careful of who you love

And be careful of who you do, 'cause the lie becomes the truth

Man, you just fucked up, she thought as she unfastened all the screws holding the rusty frame, and pulled it off, setting it next to her on the ground. When she looked back at the cooler, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. The cooling compartment was covered with small bags taped to it. She took one, opened it, and took a look inside. Her eyes blew up to the size of dinner plates.

There was Marijuana inside.

Marijuana packed to be sold.

A sly grin took form on her face. "Well, who knew."

Someone must've hid their supply in this cooler and never came back to get it. She didn't know much about Mary, but she knew enough that it can make you trip hard. The smell was familiar, because she smelled it on Lewy when he'd come home from a concert or party with his friends. Looking at the amount of Mary in front of her, she could open a clinic.

She tossed a nervous glance over her shoulder for any snooping eyes – coughLeocough – and the door was still closed. She was alone… at the moment. She opened the glass door, pulled the bagged bottles out, unwrapped it, and began to stuff the small baggies of Mary in. Done, she pulled the moonshine bottles out and hid them at the bottom drawer. The bag went under the table.

She kicked back and crossed her arms behind her head with a grin on her face. Today just keeps getting better and better for Lita Loud. She got two bottles of moonshine, found an awesome cooler, not to mention the best birthday gift for Lewy when he turns eighteen next month.

An unpleasant odor reached her nostrils and her nose crinkled. She sat straight and sniffed at her armpit before whipping her head away after. "Ugh, I need a shower." And with that, she stood up, walked to the closet on the same side of the room, grabbed her bottle of shampoo, her loofah, a clean bra and panties, a white tank top, and a pair of black track pants. Then, she left the room and went to the john, where she crossed paths with her mother by the stairs. Lita stopped dead in her tracks and looked at her with wide eyes, Mom doing the same.

Once the moment passed, a small, timid smile crept on Mom's face. "Hi, Lita," she said.

Okay, Mom never spoke to me like this unless she wants me to fix something. Lita had an indifferent look in her eyes and spoke plainly. "What do you want me to fix?"

"N-nothing," Mom shook her head a bit, fidgeting with her hands, her smile faltering. Lita noticed a small bandage wrapped around her left index. "I just wanted to say hi."

"You did," Lita started, turning on her heel and starting towards the bathroom, "I'm taking a shower." She then turned and closed the door. As she did, she caught a quick glimpse of her mother. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes glistened. She looked hurt. Good, let's see how she likes it when she gets ignored. Lita felt the same anger she feels whenever she saw her bubble up in her chest. She took a few deep breaths to cool it down, because if she gets angry, bad things happen. When she saw herself calm enough, she walked to the tub, reached in and turned the faucet on. She laid her clean clothes on the sink and grabbed the bottom of her black tank top, rolling it over her head and revealing her taut stomach and the white sports bra that covered her developing breasts, the bra following after.

She then looked at her chest in the mirror over the porcelain sink, her hands resting on the sink. She didn't like them. They were small and ugly and the upper part was slightly covered in freckles. Her areolas were chocolate brown and her nipples were slightly perky. She raised one hand and massaged one with her fingers. They were slightly full, so there was flesh to grope, and they were warm too, but they were still tiny, and that made Lita frown. She knew they'll grow bigger in time, but she couldn't help but feel embarrassed of them right now. Uncle Lynn always teased her about them, calling her Litty Bitty Titty and shit. What an asshole, and a perv. Lita released her breast and stepped back to remove her belt, then undoing the button of her jeans before unzipping and sliding them down her legs, making them pool around her ankles. She stepped out and turned her back to the mirror. On her back, a big rose was tattooed, with the thorny stems of her shoulders reaching it, shorter stems scattering all over her back. Beneath, she looked at her hips. They were slightly wider than the rest of her frame, her ass, covered by the red panties, wasn't that big, but it looked pretty. She reached her hands back and rested them on her cheeks and gripped, her fingertips dipping into the freckled flesh. That brought a smile to her face. At least I got buns down there, She thought. Finally, she pulled her panties down and undid her ponytail, freeing her dirty blonde hair and letting it pool around her shoulders and stepped under the spray.


A short while later, Lita was back in her room, working on the Husky again, her hair in a ponytail with the bandana holding it back. She was fitting a new plug for the wire, I'm In Love With a Monster by Fifth Harmony was playing on the stereo with her nodding to it.

I'm In Love With a Monster by Fifth Harmony

He'll buy me a thorn before he buy me a rose

Covered in dirt before I'm covered in gold

Just tryin' it on, yeah, he's taking me out

Say what you want, but I will never be told

'Cause I'm in love, with a monster

I really love this song. It just describes the kind of girl I am. What can I say, I'm a freak. ;)

A knock on the door interrupted her. She sighed and lowered the volume. "It's open." She allowed.

The door opened and it was Lewis; Lewy, as she liked to call him: A seventeen year old teen with brown hair, soft skin and a lean physique. Not scrawny lean, but muscular lean, you know? He had thick brown hair that spilled around his head, not to mention a scruff of hair on his chin. There were few things in life that Lita liked to do for fun. Teasing her big brother was one of them. She huffed in mock annoyance, giving him a fake glare. "What do you want, Lewy? I'm busy here." She nodded as the cooler in front of her.

"First off, I told you to stop calling me that, dude." He scolded, giving a glare of mock annoyance of his own. "Second off, what the hell is that thing anyway?" He asked, pushing the door open and walking towards her.

"A fridge I found on the road," She answered, turning back to the task at hand.

"You're like a dog, Litty," He teased, patting her head, "Always bringing stuff home from outside, like a good girl."

Lita smacked his hand away, failing to hide the smirk on her lips. She hated being called that nickname, but it always came in as affectionate whenever he called her that. "Get lost, loser."

He chuckled as she smacked his hand away, then walked back to the door. "Dinner's ready," He informed, "don't make me come up and get you. Oh, and make sure you bring Luscious down with you, okay?" He then left the room and walked downstairs.

"Whatever, Lewy!" She called after him.

"I can't hear you!" He shouted from the stairs. Yes, you can, she thought, snickering. Coming to think of it, she was hungry. But she was set on making the fridge work before dinner.

Feed me first! Her stomach yelled.

Sigh, fine. "I'll get back to you after dinner." She told the cooler. It didn't say a thing, and she nodded before standing up and exiting to the hallway. She then took a left, then opened the door on the right, where Lizbon and Luscious' room is located. She turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door. "Luscious?" She called, looking through the crack. He wasn't there. "Luscious," She called in a sing-song voice, pushing the door wide open and walked to the middle of the room. "Luscious, C'mon, I'm in no mood for games." She laid her hands on her hips before a growling sound emitted from above her. She looked up, and there he was, sporting a blue onesie with brown short hair and a yellow pacifier in his mouth. His hands and knees on the roof, and he slowly turned his head completely backwards, looking down at her with his big, green eyes. Lita looked at him with wide before he clamped down on her, dropping her to the ground with a scream from her. Next thing was the sound of baby laughter, Lita laying down on her back, her fingers tickling the baby's sides as he squirmed on her chest. After the assault, Lita sat up, held him in her arms, and gave him a big kiss on his cheek, prompting another giggle from him. "You scared me." She teased, booping his nose. "C'mon now, it's dinner time." She then stood up and began to make her way to the dining room.

I Love Luscious. He's the second most precious thing in this house for me. As you saw, he's not a regular child. Uncle Levi had some experiments on him when he was still in mom's belly, so he's got some quirks. One time, Mom was feeding him oatmeal, and he opened his mouth like a goddamn predator and nearly bit her hand off. Mom would have Lio feed him after that, but Lio's gone now, so I took the responsibility of taking care of him, not to mention keeping him under control. Not an easy job, but as long as I have his pacifier, it's gonna be okay.


It's dinner time, the only time of day where everyone in the house is in the same room. With nine boys, one girl, and two parents, that's twelve. How do they manage to feed all of them? she had no idea, and frankly, she didn't care. It was spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, Uncle Lynn's favorite dish. She hated it, the same goes for any other dish she makes, but she respected the effort she put into serving three nutritious meals for a dozen mouths every single day of the week.

Anyways, where was I? Oh, right. Dinner time was the only time of day where you have everyone in the house sit in the same room, so she always feel lost in the crowd. How could you not? And to add more salt to the wound, Mom is spending so much time with her brothers, helping them with their shit, that she barely sees her all day long. Every fucking one of them. She'd laugh at their stupid jokes, they even jockeyed for her attention, sometimes talking over each other, and she would listen to each and every word they say… And she was forced to watch them every day, man. Every single fucking day, and she hated it, because it makes her feel like a piece of shit compared to her perfect brothers and how proud Mom is of them. Why didn't I get the same attention like them? Was she ashamed of me?

I mean, it's nice to be noticed every once in a while, you know? Like Hey, I may be a loser, but there's someone, somewhere is proud of me. Nice! She didn't get that. Her brothers did, and she'd sit there and watch. She wouldn't dance around the problem; she know exactly what she was feeling. And it wasn't jealousy.

It was envy.

I envied her brothers for what they have and I don't. I want it so bad I'd cry for it, but I never will. I don't like crying, because if I cried, I'd feel weak, and if I feel weak, I get angry, and if I get angry, bad things happen. I know it's not their fault, but she can't help it, man. I just…

Lita grabbed her fork a little harder and stabbed a meatball with it as if it was her mother's head, then put it in her mouth and chewed. Slowly.

But yeah, I envy my brothers for getting all the attention. What, am I invisible or something? Am I worthless in here? Could you at least compliment my hair, for fuck's sake? Hello, does anybody hear me? Uh-uh, nope. There's nothing for me because I'm not Mommy. Just for once… For once in my life, I want everyone in this table to look at me like I'm someone important, but no. They were all looking at that white-haired bitch, sitting on her chair like the queen of fucking England or something. Even if they had to wake me at 3 in the fucking morning because I really need you to be with me today, but nah, Lita's a loser and means nothing, I'll just go to Mommy instead. She tried to think of something else, because that same feeling in her chest returned, and she took a few deep breaths to cool it down. She didn't feel like flipping the table right now. Literally. Still, she wanted to be the center of attention for once… She wanted them to look at her like she was a celebrity. She wanted it so bad it… eats her up inside, and she hated feeling that way.

It's strange to hear. I know, but whatever. This old hag pampered her sons, but completely ignored her only daughter. I'm used to it at this point, though. Yup. Totally used to it.

Ugh, I feel like a little bitch now, whining about no one noticing me. Boo-hoo, Litty Bitty wants attention. What a loser. You know what, here: I wanna be noticed. I wanna be the one to go to for anything in this house apart from fixing shit that broke. But that's the thing. Everyone's either busy doing their thing, or busy hogging up Mom to themselves. Pathetic, yeah, I know, but it still fucking hurts, man… I wanna have someone to pay attention to me; to tell me I'm pretty, to brush my hair before bed, to tell me what looks good on me and what doesn't… To hold me tight and stroke their fingers through my hair… To tell me that they love me… And to not have that, but watch my brothers have it from Mom…

Alright, I'm fine, I'm done complaining. I'll just… yeah. She dipped the fork into the plate and spun it around, gathering a forkful of spaghetti and putting it in her mouth. She chewed slowly and tried to think of something else, like the taste of cold moonshine when she's done fixing that fridge. Her mouth watered at the thought and her appetite returned as she chewed faster, swallowed, and took another forkful. This is what I love about fixing stuff, man; it helps me feel better. I can't fix the bullshit I deal with on a daily basis at home, so I fix stuff that's broken. Gives me a sense of accomplishment, you know? It's like I'm being Bob the builder, or Handy Manny. You know him, right? That Mexican carpenter/electrician/plumber/builder dude with tools that talk? Ah, you don't know what I'm talking about. Most people don't, so that's okay.

"Lita?"

The girl flinched at the call of her name, as if she was caught doing something wrong. Were you at peace on the dinner table? Bad, bad girl. Her mother was looking at her, eyebrows up as if she was looking something interesting, and a smile. "How was your day, dear?"

It wasn't bullshit, but I doubt you even care. "It was alright," She spoke out loud. "I found this bar fridge on the sidewalk this afternoon."

"Really?" Mom asked, leaning forward slightly like she was intrigued. She wasn't, though; she didn't give not one single fuck.

"Yeah," Lita answered, getting tired of being part of this play, "I needed a small fridge for my room anyway."

"Does it work?"

Just leave me alone already. "I just needs Freon gas refill. And a new plug." And with that, she stuffed her fork into a meatball, and shoved it into her mouth to end the conversation. Mom's smile faltered slightly and turned to Lewy. Lita didn't hear a word they said and didn't care. When she was done, she picked up her plate, dropped it in the sink, and made her way back to her room, but not without ruffling Lizy's hair and giving Luscious his goodnight kiss on the cheek. He wouldn't sleep if she didn't kiss him. One time Lace and LeBron tried to put him to sleep, and she walked by and Luscious reached out for her but couldn't get her attention. When she was downstairs, she found Uncle Levi waiting for her. You should help your siblings put Luscious to bed, He'd said. He likes spending time with you, and becomes upset when you reject him. He will not be an infant forever, so you should make memories with him while you can. When she came back up, she found Lace and LeBron lying on the ground, beaten and battered, as if a horde of angry bears jumped them, and Luscious standing up in his crib, his tiny hands wrapped around the bars, crying. She walked over, picked him up, and gave him a sweet kiss on his cheek, and his bawling turned to laughter. Five minutes of holding him to her shoulder later, he was asleep, and her brothers began to get up. She laid Luscious down in his crib and looked at them with a sly smirk. What's the matter, She'd teased, Can't put a baby to sleep?

Presently, she was back in her room, on her seat at the work table, back on fitting the plug on the fridge, Odessy by Johnny Harris was playing lowly.

'How was your day, Lita? Did anything cool?' Yes, I did, Mom. I'd tell you all about it, but I already know you don't give a shit about how my day was. Thanks for pretending, though. Because whether you cared or not, I really don't give a shit myself. It's not like I need you in my life anyways. I've lived this far barely seeing Dad and never be noticed by you, which is fine by me.

The song ended, and autoplay started First Warning by The Prodigy.

I get it, I'm a loser. I don't have any real talent, but do you really need to rub it in my face? How cruel can you be to show off how great and talented my brothers are every fucking single day? It's like I'm not even part of this family, you know? It's like I'm their pet or… guest or an America's Got Talent judge.

Finally finished with the plug, she dropped the screwdriver on the table, then opened the drawer and pulled a measuring tape to take the dimensions of the metal frame for uncle Leif to make. Done, she grabbed her phone and sent them to him in a text. She'd texted him before dinner about the fridge, and he said he'd gladly help. All that's left is to wait now. She leaned back on her seat and looked up at the ceiling. If I'm gonna be honest with you, I'm gonna say that my life sucks. My Mom barely admits my presence, I'm underappreciated by my brothers and uncles, and I see Dad four or five times a year. Any other girl in my place would curl up in her bed and cry herself to sleep every night, but not me. Wanna know why? Because I have two bottles full of liquid happiness.

A smile crept on her face. She almost forgot about them. She hunched forward, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out one of the bottles before kicking it closed. She then got up, walked to the door and locked it before heading to her bed and positioned herself in a seated position, her back against the headboard. She unscrewed the cap, and tipped the bottle against her lips, her Adam's apple bobbing as she gulped it down. She lowered it, her face twisting, her lips puckering from the stinging taste of alcohol before she sighed heavily, the warmth in her stomach spreading all over her body. Her eyes became hazy and unfocused, a goofy smile on her lips. She felt absolutely giddy when she had alcohol in her body. The hurt, the struggle, the anger and all the other shit that bothered her disappear like smoke in the wind. She tipped the bottle again and took smaller sips this time before putting it down with a sigh, her cheeks began to turn pink, not because she was flustered, it's just the alcohol effecting her. She stayed like that for a while, before her eyes began to feel heavy. She always got a little sleepy when she drinks, but that's why she'd only drink before bed. So she can sleep without crying herself to sleep.

You know what? Fuck it. Mom can keep her precious little boys. I don't really care anymore. I'm tired of whining and bitching. I'm just gonna set this bottle aside and just… enjoy… this moment…

Snore…