Secrets in The Family {IC}

It was a new day in the quiet town of Misty Hollows, early one dull Saturday morning. Thick grey clouds blocked out sunlight over the residents, everything appeared lackluster and dry, in desperate need of rain fall. It wasn't too far off, judging by the ominous look of the sky, a thunderstorm wasn't too far off. Inside of the Wells recently purchased home, Ross was up in her bedroom, seated quietly at a window seat.

Her room was at the back of the house, so all she could see was the backyard, and the hundreds of trees behind it. In her room boring off-white and powder blue striped wallpaper covered the walls, there were only two windows in the room so it wasn't very bright, but it appealed to Ross most when everyone got to pick their rooms. She was lacking in unpacking and setting things up, even after being in the house for seven days now, the only thing the only thing that was completely finished was her bed. A solid blue comforter with zebra striped sheets underneath. A black see-through canopy net hung over and down the four chesnut brown post on the bed. Other than that, there were boxes everywhere, some full of clothes, old toys, and junk she'd collected over the past few years.

Ross held an absentminded gaze on the dreadful scenery outside, occupied mentally with the thought of school. Even though they had been at Misty Hollows for a full week now, they weren't actually starting school for another day. The thing Ross hated the most about moving was leaving behind friends she'd grown close to and having to start from scratch again in a new place. That was the hardest part for her, mustering up the confidence to talk to strangers, afterwards she didn't usually have a hard time making friends. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be hanging around her siblings more until then.

Ross sighed once, more of a yawn, and stretched her arms up over her head, cracking her back. She didn't have a solid sleep last night, she kept waking up and looking around her dark room. The dark always bothered her, especially when she was in a room by herself, but that wasn't nearly as disturbing as her foster parents. They'd been killing people out of some sick form of entertainment, and Ross could vividly remember the first time she saw them murder someone. Back then she had a fear of blood, and being forced to watch, it was a miracle she was able to stay concious. She didn't eat for a day afterwards, it was a memory that stuck out and stained the good ones. Since then Ross tried to adjust to the killings, but it was still hard. Out of fear she the thought of seeking help never crossed her mind, there was no doubt in her mind that her parents would kill her if she tried to expose the secret the Wells family held.

"If I can adjust I can ignore it." Her voice came out tired as she ran a hand through her hair, realizing her stomach was growling she hopped up from the windowseat and left her room, closing the door quietly behind herself. She wasn't sure if she was the first one up, or if where everybody was, but her stomach wasn't going to wait for someone else to cook. Ross was never much of the chef type, but she knew enough to keep herself, and appetite, satisfied. Pulling out a bowl and some syrup, she poured a small bowl of cereal and made some pancakes from scratch. Setting them on a plate she made a few extra just incase someone else got hungry. Grabbing a glass of orange juice she sat down at a round table placed in a nook off the kitchen and picked with her food for a few minutes before actually eating it.

"Maybe I'll go out later on." Ross wondered if she was actually allowed to, surely she would find out in due time.

Joshua woke up to a silenced house, for a house with six teenagers this was a sound he never got used too. He picked his head up and rubbed his eyes, “what a weird dream” he thought to himself. He always had weird dreams nowadays, ever since he came here, and the dreams seem to get worse as time goes by.

He slid on his skinny jeans and black hoody over his t-shirt. Then a green studded belt, and his new converses. Messed up his hair to look as is he’d slept in his clothes.

He walked to the kitchen. He sow Ross making pancakes and laughed.
“Didn’t know you were cooking today” then sat at the table and pulled up a plate,
“I thought you didn’t cook anyway?” He pulled a pancake to his plate, then drenched it in syrup, then taking a bit he fell silent and took another bit, “You should cook more oftain,”

((srry its so short, I'll post Luaren's latter))

Nathaniel had been up since 6, like clockwork, every other day he got up for a run, rain or shine. Currently it was drizzling, dark and cloudy, lightning and thunder just waiting to make their entrance. Regardless, Nathan, Nate, or Nat, whatever nickname his friends decided to call him today, was out jogging. He was sporting a hooded sweatshirt, running shorts, and sneakers that were pouding the pavement with each long stride. Slightly panting as he arrived back at his front gate, Nate looked across the street at the previously vacant house until that new family had arrived. Slate blue eyes scanned it curiously for a moment, before sliding the hood back off of his head and running a hand through his hair, as he caught his breath.

Heading back inside, he shut the door immediately hearing his mother. "Nathan! Is that you?" Kicking off his shoes, and following the woman's voice. "Yeah, it's me." He answered, reaching into the refridgerator and uncapping a bottle of water as well as noticing some form a dessert taking up an unnecessary amount of space in their fridge. "I need you to do me a favor!" She yelled from the backyard, where the the brunette in her late forties was most likely gardening. "Sure thing. Hey mom, what's this dessert for?" He questioned, taking a large gulp of cold water.

Looking up as his mother took off her gardening gloves and made her way to the kitchen, he tugged his sweatshirt off over his head. "Oh ,see, that's exactly what I wanted to ask you. Those new neighbors of ours, I know they've been here a week, but I wanted to give them some time to settle in, and I just got around to make them a welcome to the neighborhood batch of my famous cookies." Nate quirked an eyebrow.My mom's such a dork. He thought smiling. "That's what that is. Jeez, Ma', how many cookies did you make? There's like enough cookies to feed the entire neighborhood stuffed into our fridge." He retorted, slightly grinning. Slightly flustered, she waved her hand dismissivley at her son. "Well, they had a lot of kids, so-" "Mom, I'm just teasing, I'll bring it over, just give me some time to shower"--

About twenty minutes later, Nathan was all squeaky clean and specifically not sweaty. Re-dressing in a pair of loose fitting jeans, a checkered belt and a plain t-shirt, he headed back downstairs to the kitchen. Grabbing the huge container containing a multitude of cookies, he stepped into his converse and out the door. "Mom! I'm headin' across the street to deliver your smorgesboard of cookies!" He yelled, shaking his head, and strolling across the seat. Well, at least this is a chance to meet these people, and invite them to the beach tonight. He thought, remembering the bonfire some kids from school were hosting. Bumping the doorbell with his elbow, Nathan shifted from foot to foot, waiting for someone to come to the door.

A light brown head turned over on the pillow that lay on the small twin bed, a bare foot seeping out the side of the thick black confortor. The room was a dark blue color and there was only one window trimmed by a big black line. A big bucket of black paint lay on the carpet, that was covered by one of those big plastic coverings you use when painting, and a large stencil of letters and musical symbols. Currently the owner of the room was useing his savings to decorate the room planning with ironic quotes from song lyrics and musical symbols on the walls. The young man had a deep love for music, there is just something enticing as biting sarcasm put to music. The 17 year old in the bed blinked slowly, his green eyes opening slowly and adjusting to the light pouring in through the window.

Looking around a sight of unpacked boxes filled his sight and a heap of unfolded clothes lie on top of the black dresser, which had blue knobs for pulling. Rubbing his eyes and letting out a large yawn David Wells got out of the bed clad in nothing but his flannel pajama pants. His usually neat hair was a mess and his large eyes holding evidence of a long well slept night. It bothered some of the others, the horrid sights they were forced to watch but after 8 years of such pain he no longer lost sleep over the ordeal. And to be honest the fact that after seeing what he would see in a day and then being able to sleep peacefully at night scared him. Made him wonder if perhaps he was becoming like the foster parents he had come to hate.

Getting out of the bed the young man walked across the room and out the door and down the hall. Making his way to the steps and down them and into the kitchen. Grabbing the plate that sat in front of Joshua, David sat down at one of the many seats and began to finish off the pancake. "Thanks Joshua, I was starving." he said with a mouthfull of pancake.

The morning weather matched her mood perfectly: gray, gloomy, and dark. Taylor stared out the window at the overcast sky, wondering when the storm would hit. Judging by the darker clouds in the distance, the 17-year-old figured that it would be raining by late afternoon. Sitting up in her bed, she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them, glancing around her room. She had been glad to return home and find her room exactly the same way it had been when she had left a couple years ago. Her father had clearly cleaned it a few times; the lack of dust had proved that. But he hadn't washed anything. Unable to stand the musty smell of the room, Taylor had spent her whole first day home washing her clothing and bedding. Now her room was clean and didn't smell like she hadn't been there since she was fifteen.

Looking out the window again, this time at the town, Taylor wondered how much had changed in Misty Hollows. Her father had told her that a new family had moved in shortly before she had returned, but that was about all she had bothered listening to. She didn't want to get into an argument so soon after coming home, and so had avoided her father the past couple days. Really, she had just sat in her room, thinking about her time away. It hadn't been easy, but she had needed it... sort of. She was sort of glad to be back home; she just wished the weather could be a bit better. She didn't like seeing her mood in the sky; it only brought her mood down more.

Deciding she didn't need to be feeling so down, she climbed out of her bed and walked out of her room. She was fairly tentative as she walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. She was still wary of her father, never forgetting the incident that had finalized her decision to leave. She did regret the decision, though not because she missed her father or anything. That would be absurd... wouldn't it? She finally reached the kitchen to find her father sitting at the table, reading the newspaper. Just like every day before I left... she thought silently as she walked over to the pantry and pulled out the box of Cheerios. "Look who's finally out of her room." Taylor simply rolled her eyes as she pured the cereal into a bowl. The two were silent as Taylor finished making her breakfast and sat down. After a couple moments, her father folded up the newspaper and smiled slightly. "So, do you have any plans for today?"

"You don't have to pretend that you care about me," she said coldly. "We both know you don't." She got up from the table, leaving her breakfast unfinished. She grabbed her coat and walked out the front door, not really sure why his asking her what she was doing had made her so upset. He feels sorry for me. That's the only reason he asked. she thought as she walked down the road. It was still fairly early, so she didn't think too many people would be up. It was about time people knew she was back, but she didn't want a flood of attention. Taylor noticed Nathanial up the road and couldn't help but smile at seeing him. She stopped and sat down on a bench on the side of the road and watched him a minute, noticing that he was heading toward the house her father said the new family was in. He appeared to be carrying a plate of something. Realizing she was being a bit creepy, she got up and decided to introduce herself to the family as well. They at least wouldn't have a billion questions to ask, as they didn't know her. She walked up to the house as well, wondering if Nathanial would be weirded out at all.

Taylor stopped beside him, not making eye contact. She could already feel her cheeks heating up as she blushed. Man, why did she have to be like this? She didn't even really know him and she was already being completely shy and blushing. She glanced up at him once before returning her gaze to the door, waiting for someone to answer. "Hey..." she said softly.

Ross took a few bites of her breakfast but soon found herself just rearranging the food on the plate instead of actually eating it. She no longer had the hungry appetite that forced her to leave her room and cook, oddly. She started thinking about school again, still dreading having to make new friends again. The process was long, and after moving so many times, very annoying. If she didn't make any friends she'd have nothing to do but bother her siblings or sit around indoors while everyone else had a life. Ross's goal was to get out as much as she could, her parents really bugged her, and it wasn't even because of their psychotic, murderous ways, she never really liked them. Saying that to their faces would be a careless mistake, and Ross could invision herself being the next victim to their macabre ways. She dismissed the mental picture with a shake of her head and looked up through her, just messed up red hair, to see Joshua come downstairs. She gave him a small smile, shrugging at his comment.

"Its just some pancakes, I don't think they're all that great. Anything taste good when your hungry." She looked back down at her plate and pushed a half-bitten piece around in a puddle of syrup. "My mom taught me how to make these, luckily the cereal comes in a box." She laughed, pushing the plate to the side, finishing off the rest of her orange juice. She looked towards the stairs again as David graced them with his presence, watching him start eating off Joshua's plate, she narrowed her eyes, pointing her fork at him. "You know, its not good to eat after other people. He could have a horribly contagious virus and you picked it up just now by eating that." She sounded a little more nerdy than intended, looking back to Joshua, "Which I hope you don't, 'cause I'm not in the mood to get sick right now." Picking he rplate up she shoveled the remains of breakfast into the sink with her sticky fork and dropped the plate in. "There's plenty left over, if you decide to get your own food." Ross started to look at David when the doorbell grabbed her attention.

"Who is it?" She mumbled to herself, almost thinking about not getting the door for the sole fact that she didn't feel like talking. She was already up though, and done eating so it only made sense for her to, even if she was falling into a crabby mood. She tried to look out of the small eyepiece in the door, but was too short. "Yes?" She said while swinging the door open, she put on her best greeting voice which wasn't much. She opened the door to a guy standing with a large plate containing something unknown since it was covered up and a girl standing beside him. "Can I help you?" She asked, already guessing whatever was on that plate was for them since they just moved in. Idly she wondered if people still did stuff like that anymore.

Nate had been standing casually, pondering whether or not he should eat one of the cookies he was delivering. But before he could really decide, a shy timid voice seemed to appear, and somewhat surprisingly, it was not coming from the door in front of him. Blinking and glancing to his side, he noticed the girl from down the street; Taylor. "Hm?; Oh, hey Taylor." He answered flashing a quick smile, slightly noticing the red in her cheeks just as the door opened.

Quirking an eyebrow at the younger female in front of him, Nate handed over the plate o' dessert; aka his mothers famous cookies. "Hey, yeah, uh, I live across the street and my mom wanted me to deliver the cliche 'welcome to the neighborhood' cookies." He answered, rolling his shoulders back in a shrug. "Anyway, I'm Nate, and uh, since you guys were new here and probably don't know anybody, figured I'd see if you guys wanted to go to a bonfire at the beach tonight. Starts at eight. Some kids from school are hosting it before we all go back, so yeah, feel free to show up." He ented his little invitation rant and glanced to Taylor. "You to Tails." He added, figuring she had already been invited, but why not extend the invitation again.

[[I apologize in advance for any instance of "Nat" for "Nick;" it's the name I usually give this character.]]

The master bedroom was pitch black save for the light from Nicholas Wells's computer. With his wife still asleep, he had no freedom to turn on a light or open the thick curtains, but the dinginess didn't bother him much. After all, the screen was backlit, and he was a skilled enough typist that the lack of light on the keyboard hindered him little.

Had he been paying attention, he would have heard three of the teenagers who lived in his house, whom he refused to think of as his children, milling about in the kitchen downstairs. However, alternating between work, 4chan and flash games kept his mind happily stimulated, and unaware of his general surroundings. So unaware, in fact, he was surprised when he heard the doorbell ring, being under the impression that it was still nearly just after four in the morning.

He swore at the clock on his computer, realizing he had been awake for a ridiculously long time. A grunt from the direction of the bed told him that his wife had been awakened by the bell, so he stood up and walked over to where she lay.

"What," she said irritably, "Are they doing?"

Nicholas shrugged. "Probably some early-bird-ass neighbor coming to wish us good morning or whatever neighbor crap they do."

Alma groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. Mr. Wells shook his head, exiting the room to go down the hallway.

The hall was dimly lit, but it seemed bright to Nicholas compared with the darkness of his bedroom. He was already wearing clothing, having put them on when he had first woken up earlier that morning, and so he cared little enough about his appearance to walk directly to the kitchen.

All of Nicholas's adopted children were taller than he was, albeit only by an inch or so in some cases. However, he was long over the height-based inferiority complex of his youth, and so the stature of the children who lived with him did not phase him. His wife, in attempts to humor him, had demanded that the children carry around heavy weights in backpacks so they would be forced to slump everywhere they went, but Nicholas had vetoed this idea; it was too much trouble to go through. The answer, of course, would have been to simply not feed the children in early puberty, but hindsight is twenty-twenty.

Passing by the two boys in a state of mutual repudiation with both, Nicholas walked to where the middle girl stood facing the intruders; a boy who looked older than any of the boys who lived in Mr. Wells's house, and a girl who might have been as old as the one standing abreast of Mr. Wells. The girl had hair about the same shade of red as Nicholas's. He wondered if he could make a wig out of her scalp. She seemed timid, as she wasn't making her presence all that obvious, and Nicholas pegged her as the kind who you didn't need to coax into freaking out; i.e., the fun kind.

The boy was the exact opposite. He was all smiles and nice hair, with stubble and general look-at-me-I'm-eighteen-ness. His confidence posed a stark contrast to that of the red-haired girl, which made Nicholas wonder just how hard he would have to press him to pass into the scream-bloody-murder phase. Mr. Wells particularly enjoyed torturing confident people; once someone is chained down and it doesn't matter how strong they are, he enjoyed himself immensely to watch them realize they were, probably for the first time in their lives, genuinely terrified.

"You know, you're trespassing," Mr. Wells said, sporting a smile that was just nearly a smirk, and speaking with just enough humor in his voice and seriousness in his eyes for complete ambiguity as to whether or not he actually wanted them to leave. If they did leave, good riddance to them, and Mr. Wells would probably add them to his list of suggestions to his wife. If they stayed, Mr. Wells would probably invite them in, converse, and attempt to judge their character well enough to make a judgment for himself as to whether or not to add them to the hit list.

[[Yeah, that's the first thing he thinks when he meets a new person: "Do I want to kill these guys?"]]

Hailey Wells woke up to the sound of two people knocking on the door. Once she opened her eyes, she shut them once more and covered her ears with her pillow. But try as she might, she couldn't. That was the trouble with her- once she wakes up, it's difficult to get back to sleep. Hailey had no choice but to get up already, even if it was really early in the morning. No one would probably be up at this time, but what could she do? Stay up here in her room and mope about going to school and about the poor, unfortunate, victim her parents would choose next?

Slowly and quietly, she left the sanctuary she calls her room and descended down the stairs. Hailey didn't bother to change her clothing. She was fine with wearing her pajamas.. even if her new neighbors are here, to welcome us to the neighborhood. They are going to regret this, she thought to herself.

She heard the clanking of plates and forks and knives in the kitchen. Much to her surprise, half of her adoptive siblings were there, eating pancakes for breakfast. She wasn't hungry at all, but sat down and watched them eat their fluffy, sweet and supposedly yummy food.

"Good Morning" she said.