• I stood in the kitchen, hugging the box of Cheerios to my chest while I watched my sister, Gabrielle, argue with my father, speaking harshly to each other in very loud voices. The rest of my sisters were not home, 'hanging' with their 'friends', something I refused to do, since I had none. Gabrielle only stayed behind some weekends, just for a few hours, to spend time with Father before she went to the other dimension, where her lover was waiting for her on the other side. It was strange to say that my sister had a lover, since her physical appearance was only that of a mature 17-year-old, but she was truly over 250 years of age now, so my father let her and my other sister, Lillianna, do almost anything they wanted.

    As I was cowered in the corner, leaning against the kitchen counter for support, Gabrielle groaned and stormed out of the room, still yelling and cursing at Father, flipping him off as she walked. He watched her go and sighed when we heard a door slam, knowing it was one of the many doors to the other world, she wouldn't be coming back for a bit, at least not until she was less prone to yell at Father some more. Lately, they had seemed to get into fights over everything, mostly her ragging on him about some little thing that she didn't like, and he would retaliate, saying that she had no right to yell at him, when he was the guardian of all us.

    Father stood there for a while, staring at the floor. Finally, he stood straight and lifted his head, brushing his hair behind his shoulders and out of his face. He turned to me and smiled, a sad, hurt smile, and walked over to me, taking the box out of my hands and setting it on the counter. "Diavoletto," he began, his voice quiet and pain-filled, "my dearest Diavoletto, why have I let her get the best of me? Did I not once used to be a great man, a wonderful father to you, my children? I struggled to teach you all your powers, I tried so hard to get you all to socialize with the humans and not make a mockery of our races, and you did everything I asked. Why now, when I wish to be close to my family, does she push away and run off to that love of hers?"

    I looked up at my father, not sure what to say. He was a great man, true, and a wonderful father, but he was missing the picture it seemed. She did not want to push away, but she felt she had to, I could tell. One of my powers being the ability to feel what others felt, see what they saw, know what they thought, I could tell him what was going on in her mind, but I didn't. I stayed quiet for a while, him looming over me, his massive body about the only thing that scared me, I myself being only a few inches over five feet. Finally, after over a minute of silence, I spoke: "Father, she's just...doing her own thing, I guess. That man she's with is her world now, they love each other. She's so...so...she's just sucked into that life, the life of a demon in our world, doing anything and everything without worries. I'm sure she'll get over it soon enough."

    Father smiled and leaned down to kiss my forehead, and I got a whiff of his hair as it fell back over his shoulders; it smelled like fire and rain, an amazing scent when mixed together. He straightened up again and ran his hand across my cheek and through my hair before he turned away to leave the room. "My dear Diavoletto, what would I do without you? You are my sunshine, my lovely ray of light when things get dim, are you not...ah, you are certainly my favorite. I should feel horrid for saying it, but you are, and I shall say it proudly...just, not in front of your sisters."

    As soon as he walked through the archway and I heard his footsteps on the stairs, I turned back to the counter and slid the box back to the place it was before. I didn't feel like cereal anymore, I'd rather have a snack instead of food, and I smiled and turned to the pantry. I inched closer to it, as if sneaking up on my future food, and opened the door as quickly as possible, hissing at the items on the other side. I giggled and picked up one of the cans, tore the top off, and popped one of the grubs into my mouth. I knew that if any normal human had seen me at that time, they would probably run out holding their stomach at the thought, but these were good bugs, not just any bugs, but good bugs. Since I was born into the demon world, I loved these things, and I could never remember the name of them...

    I had the whole house to myself, with the exception of Father, for an entire weekend. And this weekend was different: we had no school for almost two weeks, for some random reason, and my sisters were going to be gone the whole time. Gabrielle would be in our world with her lover, Lillianna would be in and out of friend's houses, spending time anywhere but home, while Lezlee and Maharet would be out of town with their friends, spending time at some strange mega-mall and going to boy band concerts, something I found repulsive. And since I was the only one without friends, I would be stuck here with Father, but I didn't mind, I liked Father, liked my home, liked my room, the quiet of having an empty house, and the echo of my music when there was no one to complain.

    Now, I finished the grubs and tossed the can over to the trashcan, making it in without any difficulty. As I walked out of the kitchen, I got a strange feeling from the stairs when I passed them, and I asked myself, 'Kyle, why do the stairs look suspicious? They never look that way, why do they now?' I walked around to the corner next to them, staring up at the ceiling three floors above my head. The old Victorian home was amazing, and for the past hundred years, I loved it. Forget that I was raised in it, this was the best house ever, better than the one I lived in when I was human. I walked back to the first step and began walking, hearing some strange language being spoken on the third floor. Automatically, I knew it was my father, since the other girls' rooms were on the second floor and mine was the attic (I loved it, I picked it, I got it).

    I was right outside Father's door, listening patiently for him to speak in a language I could understand. Of course, he didn't, so I went to my room and walked up the platform my bed was on and flopped onto the mattress, sinking into the sea of comforters and pillows. My room was the most elegant of them, other than Father's. I had huge windows in my room, and a bay window that had a window seat stretched across it, dark red velvet curtains covering every window at times. In every corner, I had a speaker against the ceiling and a cord running down to the stereo, a massive hunk of plastic and metal that could hold ten CD's at a time. As I said before, my bed sits on top of a three or four foot tall platform that stretches 7 feet wide, 9 feet long. I needed stairs to get up, for the most part, and I built all this myself. I loved my room, it was the only place in the house that didn't feel strange to me.

    I jumped when I heard a knock on my door, and sat up in time to see Father open the door and walk through, a frown on his face. Father was a massive man, I said that before, but he wasn't massive as in heavy. No, our father was a very tall man, almost 7 feet tall and muscular, very muscular. Though, he still looked thin, still looked sickly at times by how harsh his face was. And I only saw harsh because his face was only happy when he showed emotion: his cheek bones were high and his jaw was very sharp looking, yet not squarish and manly, not really. He had big green eyes and long black hair that reached almost to the middle of his back, and it hung in his face most of the time, since he had no bangs, like most men, and didn't brush it back and put any products in it to keep it back. Overall, Father was a very attractive man, very handsome to so many women, including myself, though I am allowed to think that because he's not really my father.

    He looked up at me and chuckled walking over to my platform and stepping up onto it, taking a seat next to me on the bed. "Diavoletto, I was talking to Gabrielle just now, she decided to come back for a bit just to sort things out...she says she won't be coming back, not until she feels she can. She also said that won't be for a while...what am I to do?" He slumped over and held his face in his hands. Father was not one who normally showed that kind of emotion, even to me. I was the only one he showed most upset emotions to, and I wasn't sure why. I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and got to my feet, moving to stand in front of him. I took his hands and made him look up at me. "Father, you shouldn't worry so much about it. Gabrielle can be judgmental, opinionated, and liked to whine a lot lately. Give her time, she'll come home, I promise. You can't beat yourself over it, since it's not your fault." He closed his eyes and shook his head, putting his arms around my waist and pulling me to him, burying his face in my stomach so he could hide his face from me while he cried.

    I couldn't understand why he was crying, couldn't figure out what my father's problem was. He was never so emotional, and now he was crying? This made me worried, of course, but I obviously couldn't do anything, so I just stood there, letting him cry. Finally, I pulled him away from me and stared at him, glaring into his eyes. "Listen to me. You are a good father, and a powerful demon. You shouldn't be crying, you have no reason to. She didn't say she was never coming home, she didn't die, we have forever to wait for her, almost. So don't beat yourself up over just one time she leaves."