Most families are weird... Like; they have that ONE thing that their kids consider weird, and makes them unique... Your Dad might be a non-violent alcoholic, your sister is in honor-roll, and your Mom may work in a smut store and be way too open about those things... Your parents may be super controlling and hardly let you go out, or maybe you don't go out all too often because you're pretty much anti-social.
Well, I'd like to say that I have the weirdest family of all... And I technically have two.
My first family is just my Mom and Dad.... I think I was adopted, all baby-left-on-a-door-step fashioned, because I look nothing like them at all.
My Mom is a bit OCD, but soft-spoken with short brown curls framing her skull. I don't think I've ever seen her without make up on her face, either. My Pop? He's a big, grungy motorcyclist... I swear, though; the nicest guy you'd ever meet, and when you hear him talk; you immediately find out that he couldn't hurt a fly.
A kid couldn't ask for finer, more accepting parents. Foster or otherwise... I know I'm not really their child, but they treated me like their own, and I love them for it.... The SPC law came into effect, though, so I had to leave.
….That's where my current family came in.
There is a total of five of us, six if you include our dog, and all of us are... Well, needless to say, the SPC law was made for people like us... Let me break it down for you; I am the most normal person in the house.
I stand about five feet and ten inches in height, normal build... I normally wear a dark hoodie and dark pants... My skin is dark-blue and my eyes are solid black... I have a single row of sharp teeth that regrow if they fall out, like a shark's... And my favorite things are anime, walks by the beach, and video-games. My talents include climbing, walking without being heard, unlocking windows from the outside, dancing (apparently), and fast-typing on a smart-phone.
I don't like how I look and I wear a mask all the time, so there is no point in telling you if I have dimples or a cleft chin or whatever. And wearing my mask makes it hard to talk, so what I sound like is a moot point, seeing as though I mostly type on my phone to communicate if I can't use my body language to get a point across.
I guess I have two adoptive brothers, and a little adopted sister.
My best friend, and my first “brother” dresses almost opposite of me. He wears a white hoodie, black pants, and has long, greasy black hair with a big old bug-eyes that have seen better days. Jeff talks, alright... I mean- the running joke is that he talks enough for me and him, despite the fact that it hurts for him to use his cheek muscles (which he cut a long time ago). Jeff is boisterous, cocky, and always gets into trouble. And he's by far the best friend I will ever have.
Next is Ben... Ben was always a bit of an odd one. He's the typical blond-haired, green-eyed pre-teen, and we have a mutual love for video-games... But every time you talk to Ben; even if it's just laid back, you get the feeling that Ben is always smarter than he lets on... and he is. I can give Ben an i-pod that was smashed by a steam-roller and he can fix it to make it look almost brand new.
The youngest out of our family is Sally, who... Gosh dangit, is an eight-year-old sweetheart... I am a sucker for little girls, okay? Not in that weird pedo-teen way. Ew, no, but Sally is definitely the one person I think that everyone in the family will drop to help... Even Jeff, assuming he and her aren't arguing, and that's saying a lot.
Sally has pretty green eyes, pale skin with a slightly glowing texture. You know, the perfect image of a little girly-girl. Likes pink, stuffed animals, has a natural knack for arts and crafts... Bleeds perpetually from her skull.
And then there's Grosser. Grosser is the... “person” that talked to my parents when the SCP law came out, the one who convinced them that SCP would be coming for me (and them) if they didn't let me live with everyone else.... I'm thankful that they let me go...
Though Mr. Gros can be a bit... hard to understand sometimes, and has the technological know-how of a disabled ant, he's a great cook, and quite seriously one of those parent figures that you can tell anything to.
But there's always been something... different between me and the rest of the kids here.
Jeff killed his brother and his parents at age 13 due to a mental-break down and hasn't been considered human ever since... Ben won't talk about how he died, but we know he drowned (possibly by his father in a tub). Our lovely little Sally was killed, standing up to her uncle who made unwanted advancements... The sick fuck... Grosser... Grosser won't even talk about his past.
Everyone else has a bloody past filled with either murder or slaughter... I am just... Me. Nothing too interesting about me other than I have blue skin and freaky-ass eyes.
I still have my parents. I still call them and write to them on holidays like they sent me to boarding school, rather than to a house to crash in secret away from other living humans... Aside from being blue there's really nothing strange about me at all. Just a normal human, teenage boy, who's completely and totally sane.
Well... That's how I was before I met my family anyway.
It was a cool autumn's night, a rare treat that I let myself enjoy only when Mr. Gros told me to get out of the house, and even then, I typically go with Jeff.
Jeff was walking by my side-or I was walking by his- with his hands in his pockets and his hood up. To anyone- we'd look like a group of kids just... out for a nightly walk... At...ten-fourty-three in the evening.
It wasn't long before Jeff pulled out a slip of paper and asked me to offer him a light from my phone... I obliged and he chuckled, staring at a small, one-story house.
“Yeah, this is the place,” he chuckled in a hoarse, forced voice... Ever since he cut those joker-like cuts across his cheek he realized how much he used those cheek muscles, and they never healed quite right, but even so, I could hear the smile in his voice.
“1204 Briarwood Oak Boulevard... Current residence; the Blanke's...Jospeph, Amanda, and Kathleen...”
I tilted my head at Jeff, begging the question silently.
“Can you get me in through the kitchen window?” Jeff asked as he pointed to a window up the drive-way of the house. A textured window that lets the light in through the glass, but is pretty much pointless for looking through.
I took out my phone and held it out to Jeff.
I'm pretty sure that's a bathroom window
I could feel Jeff roll his eyes at me. “Okay, fine, wise guy. Can you get me in through the 'bathroom' window?”
I held up a finger and traveled up the drive-way, past the cars to the window and shined my light on the lock on the inside... I couldn't see well, but I guessed I had been through worse. I shook the base of the window a bit then slowly held one side of the window up, causing there to be the slightest gap... Not a gap big enough to fit a finger through- no.
But that's not what I wanted to do.
With my free hand I tapped on the “down” side of the window until I heard the faint sound of falling metal, and then I slid the window open.
“... I still say that's fucking insane how you can do that.”
You're telling me. I typed into my phone.
“Whatever...” Jeff groans. “I'll be back in an hour. Go home if I'm not, tell Gros what happened... And good call on the bathroom bit.”
Fourty minutes later Jeff comes back with blood on his hoodie, and a purple, and flowery back-pack. “Dude- I found the stash,” Jeff wheezed as he hauled himself out of the window, and we wordlessly walked back to the edge of the forest.