Anya Peterson just started college, and made her first really good friend, since that was near impossible for her in grade school. History is easy, political science too. Taking on a right course was probably the worst decision she could have made. She loves reading. But writing? No way. But who would have thought a writing course would change her whole life in the blink of an eye. Or I should say, a blinding light.

14 years. 14 years I’ve lived with this foster family. Should say foster monsters. Not my siblings, oh no. Father monster and mother monster. Stupidest nickname I could come up with for Beck and Susan, but it still fit just as well. They weren’t always monsters, at least they weren’t until I was 10. At that time, my eldest brother, Dre, had just started his senior year. His 18th birthday, the same day. Everything was going fine. Susan made a wonderful red velvet cake with strawberry frosted icing. My littlest siblings, Faith and Will helped decorate, putting the 18 candles on with their tiny fingers, and some rainbow sprinkles. Samantha and I set the table. The candles were all lit. We got ready to sing happy birthday to Dre when all of sudden, he cried out in pain that almost sounded like a low howl, and I swore, I could hear a bones start to snap. Susan and Beck grabbed him by his shirt, and dragged him out back. I watched, as they started screaming profanity’s at him, striking him as he screamed out in pain. It was horrifying. Suddenly Dre stood up, and took off towards the forest. Susan and Beck watched, malice clear on their face. They turned around and faced me and my other adopted siblings. Anger laced Susans face, as for Beck, I couldn’t read his. We all stood still as statues at the door way. “Get back in the house you filthy pieces of shit!” She screamed. She had never once spoke to us like that. My younger siblings stared at her wide eyed. We all went back into the house, and sat at the table quietly. Dre’s candles were still burning, wax melting into the cake. They came back in the house and Susan blew out the candles. One thing I know for sure I will never be able to forget, was when the social worker came to the house the day after Dre’s birthday. She apologized to Susan and Beck. I was listening in on the conversation in the other room. Though they were speaking lowly, I could still hear them. “I’m sorry for the mistake. I guess some supernatural children got mixed in with the orphans. There’s been a rather large influx of children coming into our care lately.” “This is disgusting! How could you people be so stupid. Can’t you even tell?” Susan snapped at the woman. “I mean no, not necessarily, but, I can give you books and some videos on how to be able to tell. The children you adopted will be in your care till they’re 18. Some supernatural beings will show signs as early as 10-14 years of age.” “So we won’t know we’re housing demons until they’re 18? Despicable.” Beck grunted. “I’m sorry, hopefully they turn out to be healthy humans. You know what to do if it’s the latter, correct?” The woman said much more sinister. She went on, “perhaps this a good thing. I’ve heard of talks about the organization funding towards getting rid of the vermin for good.” “Oh don’t worry. We got 2 shot guns now. They’ll be taken care of discreetly.” Beck sounded proud of himself. “And if that’s the case, we’ll be happy to help with that funding.” I felt nauseous. I’ve got to keep my siblings safe. And after that day, none of us celebrated a birthday.