We weren't supposed to move, it was another one of my mums instinctual decisions. She never thought things through just went with what her heart told her. I thought it was a terrible way to live, never knowing what was coming that and I don't trust in the heart, pretty sure I don't even have one, that's joked about quite often in my family. Let me explain, my family is very kind, the type that gives people hope that there is good in this world and are always there for anyone who needs help. They all have blond hair and blue eyes, i'm the oldest, the black sheep, brunette with big, brown eyes.
My mum who I mentioned earlier was married to someone she met at university,Peter was his name. The ideal bloke from every girls dream, tall, rich and handsome, until they had me, then he left her, two months pregnant, standing screaming his name on the doorstep of their tiny apartment near London as she watched him drive away in his car. She kept me though, when I was twelve she met someone else, in the coffee shop she has been going to for ten years, she saw him occasionally and there eyes met a few times. One day he plucked up the courage to ask her out and boom, a relationship was formed, sounds like some fairytale romance doesn't it.
They've been together for six years now, married for half of that, I have gone from an only child to the eldest of five, my brothers Ryan, Paul and Charlie are fifteen, twelve and eight, my sisters are called Sierra and Beth, Sierra is eleven and Beth is a twin and is the same age as Charlie.
Ryan is my favourite, I know i'm not supposed to have one but he is, he tries to understand me, and he was mostly successful. I'm sorry I sound so depressed and pessimistic, I guess i've not had much to be happy for, ever since Vincent came my mother has been leaving me more and more on my own, when I was a teen I held it against her, but now it doesn't bother me. I was happy once, I met a boy, but it was not to be, he left, I remember everyone that leaves.