"Guys, hide." I whispered to my younger siblings in a panic. There was screaming and yelling outside my room. I had the door locked and closed tight, but knowing my family they'd get in.

"Ren!" My eldest brother, Grant Junior, shrieked. My younger siblings -Georgia, she was eleven, and Glen, he was thirteen- disappeared into the closet. I quickly followed and held the door closed tightly. Don't open the door... Don't open the door... I repeated in my head. Georgia and Glen were stuffed in the corner behind some old boxes.

I heard a loud crash then shatter from outside my room, something had fallen and shattered on our hardwood floor. Most likely the only picture they had of me in the whole house. The sound made me shake.

"Forget her, Grant." My 'father', Grant Senior, hissed. He sounded so pissed. They were obviously right outside my room door, but they chose to yell.

"But she has my siblings." Grant chanted darkly. "I thought us five were getting food?" He asked sounding sweeter now.

"I want my children damn it!" My 'mother', Gretchen, shrieked. My room door was pushed down slamming on the floor. It shook the entire room and everything in it. I glanced at my siblings, they nodded stepping out from their hiding spot. I slipped there after giving them a hug.

The closet door opened, they stepped out and closed it quickly. "We're here, mamma." Georgia sang quietly. I couldn't see what was happening.

"Oh my babies! Did that demon hurt you?!" Gretchen whimpered.

"No mamma." Glen answered dully. I could hear shifting. I stayed as still and quiet as possible, but I was shaking.

"Are you sure?" Grant Sr. growled, he was facing the closet, I could hear it.

"Certain." Georgia defended.

"Good." Grant Jr. said, he almost sounded kind. I could hear their footsteps echo away from me. Then the front door opened, one set out, two sets out, three now, four... Where was the fifth?

"You can come out now, sis." Grant Jr. whispered, he opened the closet door. A gentle smile stood proudly across his face. "I'll fix your door later, right now you might want to get out of here." He whispered as the front door opened again.

"Grant!" Father chanted.

"Coming!!!" He called. He winked at me the dashed out of my room. One set of feet outside, then two and it closed. I sighed softly, that ass bag was a good actor. He always did that when my parents got angry, but I knew he wouldn't hurt me. In fact he was the one who brought me here. He was my adopted big brother, though we were only months apart in age. I scurried out of the closet and checked out the window, the family car sped off. I caught my siblings looking to my window through theirs, I gave them a thumbs up. Then they were gone.

I quickly grabbed my almost useless bag. The poor thing was so broken down. My family, though I wouldn't call it that, always offered to get me a new one. When I finally agreed my parents never did. My siblings tried to give me theirs, but I let them keep theirs. I was grabbing a few pairs of clothing, most of them were torn, but that was my fault. I always managed to tear my clothes, except for my unders and socks, I was pretty skilled with keeping those it tact. I grabbed my phone charger and my beanie, tossing only the charger into my bag. I pulled on my beanie. I dashed into the bathroom and grabbed my deodorant stick and hairbrush. I threw it in to my bag and ran out the front door.