Ciao, I'm Maria di Angelo-Solace, named after my late grandmama.

I'm twelve, but I'm really grown-up, as they say, as I know all the horror stories about kidnappings and being alone on the streets at night, and sexually explicit books and fanfictions, the works.

There's five children in the di Angelo-Solace family: Fury, myself, Leah, Isa, and Fergus.

Fury's fourteen and is a surrogate of Dad and Auntie Reyna. He has coffee-coloured skin and deep chocolate-brown eyes, with dark brown bangs that hang down over his right eye and down to his shoulders. He loves coding and inventing, as well as talking to Auntie Annie about her Sim-Pod and messing around with circuits.

I'm twelve, as I've already said, but a mature twelve. I was born through surrogacy, my surrogate mother being my Auntie Kayla, and Papà the donor. I have long red hair always plaited in two French plaits, pale skin, and freckles covering my nose and cheeks. I have Auntie Kayla's hair, freckles, and eyes (we say they're Dad's eyes because they're genetic from Grandpa, so they have the same eyes, so I'm a little bit like Dad), and Papà's skin tone, as well as his sarcastic quick wit, and obsession with writing. It's unhealthy at this point. I usually wear my jean jacket covered with badges, along with my ankle-length lace dress which buttons from the hips up, and my tatty red converse.

Leah's nine and already has Dad's love for writing, just as I do, except, while I'm drawn to journalism and drama, Leah likes writing friendship stuff for little kids, like Jaqueline Wilson, as well as romance, and she also loves horror and suspense. I'm sure she'll be writing romance by the time she's my age. Also, she wrote most of this description, I'm not kidding. She's a surrogate of Auntie Kayla and Papà, and looks exactly like Papà, with a long black plait, olive skin, innocent round eyes that appear onyx, but are dark purple on closer inspection. She even wears black jeans, converse, leather jackets, and black t-shirts. She still has friends though, which is odd for her looks. I guess eight-year-olds don't judge. She's named after my Uncle Lee, by the way, who was really ill when she was born, so ill they thought he might die. He's alive now, though, so there's no need to worry.

Then there's the twins, Isa (which means beauty) and Fergus (which means strength). They're five years old and already like their parents. Isa looks exactly like Auntie Reyna, from the chocolate-brown locks, pretty complexion, and beautiful eyes, right down to the plump cherubic lips, big feet, and long pianist's fingers. Her hair's cut in a sharp bob which she chose herself. She's a really authoritative girl already, and I can already see her doctor-y side coming through. Fergus is a miniature Dad, with the blonde curls that are brown at the roots, the sky blue eyes, and his towering height. Dad's already teaching him piano and Auntie Bianca loves helping him sew.

I have exactly… hang on, let me go and count… twelve uncles and… fourteen aunties. I'm related by blood (and adoption) to exactly six of them, the rest are through marriage and Pops' and Dad's best friends that are practically siblings to them.

Here's a list: Uncle Percy and Auntie Annie, Uncle Jason and Auntie Piper, Uncle Frank and Auntie Hazel, Uncle Leo and Auntie Callie, Auntie Reyna and Auntie Rache, Uncle Cecile and Auntie Laura, Uncle Conner and Auntie Lou, Uncle Luke and Uncle Ocky, Uncle Austin and Auntie Holly, Uncle Lee and Uncle Butch, Uncle Jake and Auntie Kayla, Auntie Bianca and Auntie Thalia, Auntie Meg, and Uncle Michael.

One of my Uncles (Uncle Percy) became a famous author at eighteen. He and his friends had this silly imaginary world when they were around twelve, based around the Greek Gods. It went huge and all the money went to Auntie Annabeth's Architecture business (Olympus Architecture – Architecture Fit for the Gods!) and Auntie Bianca's Rape Crisis Centre. Oh, the series name? Percy Jackson, his own name. He is the main friggin' character. They wrote a damn sequel series in 3rd person, and Grandpa Apollo wrote a freaking third series, and it blew up. All the money went to various trust funds, charities, businesses, our houses, and such.

Papà's a writer too, and he's written books such as 'Highway to Hell', 'Liar, Liar, It All Backfired', 'A Backwards Glance', and 'Don't Look Back', which all hit big, and they're all teenage adventure or love. He also does detective work (forensic crime) sometimes. He's also part of a troupe of historians that go around to different schools, mostly elementary and middle, to do performances of moments in history to educate us in a 'fun' way. My personal favourite is the Oliver Cromwell after-death re-enactment, and anything to do with King Henry VIII because Papà and Dad were doing a project on it when they met.

Also, Auntie Annie has a prototype Sim-Pod in their house. She uses it to go and see architecture and walk around ancient sites without people seeing her there, but she once let me and Fury use it to go to Venice, where I shoved him into the canal and he pulled me in. It felt so real, like we were actually there, actually drenched in dirty canal water. We had headaches for a week after using it, as we pushed the limits by making it simulate water, but we might use it again sometime soon.

Another point to make is that we own a lot of books. Like, actual, factual, paper books, instead of projections or downloads. Most families have a few, but we have a reading nook under the stairs, as we live in Nonno's old house. Fury's books are scattered carelessly over his bedroom floor, tattered and tearing, as are mine, but Leah's are neatly on my shelves on the wall to the left of my desk of special books and notebooks, the books being our own Percy Jackson series, the Hunger Games, Artemis Fowl, Harry Potter, and the Wake and Walden series.

Anyhow, I should get to how I stumbled across this story.

I'm well-known for knowing all the worst stories, but, recently, I stumbled across an old story on a blog called 'Lake&Knowles'. There were over two million likes, a million shares, and one million, five hundred thousand comments. I read the summary and was instantly hooked by my father's names. And the fact it was real. I read the entire thing through and almost had a freaking heart attack. It was theirs.

I, of course, went running to my brother to show him. He, at first, shooed me out of his room ("Go away, M, I'm busy." "You're not doing homework. I heard you tell Papà you did it all yesterday." "Fine, you got me, M. What is it?"), but gave in after I caught him out.

"Look at this, Fury," I exclaimed, shoving my laptop in front of him.

"I don't see what's so…" he began, and I sighed irritably.

I reached out towards the screen and manipulated it to the page I wanted with my hands on the fragile screen, accidentally projecting the world news onto the wall several times over. Eventually, when Fury stopped jogging me, I got there, projecting it onto his board, which was much worse than mine, I might add, because he kept breaking his. "Look, Fury!" I exclaimed, running to his board, picking my way over his stack of Harry Potter books.

He almost fainted when he'd finished reading. "Holy Hades, Maria!"

I nodded. "I guess this is what they mean when they say something traumatic brought Papà and Dad together, then…"

He shook his head slowly, closing down my projection and letting me shut down my laptop. "Oh my god, Maria." Then he did something that surprised me. He put his arm around me and pulled me to his side. "You okay?"

I nodded. "And it explains why Auntie Bianca set up her Rape Crisis Centre. Sh… should we ask them?"

He pulled my plaits over my shoulders. "What do you think, idiot? We can go over to Auntie Hazel's and ask her. It's more… respectful."

I winced, remembering how someone in his year at school had stolen a Levi Board and almost killed himself. "Erm, how are we going to get there?"

"Not by Levi," he assured me.

I sighed in relief. "So, how?"

"We can't take rail without Dad or Papà, so… the Snake?" he suggested.

I groaned. The Snake was a public mode of transport that was basically a metal belt with cushiony seats and perches for laptops and such, with clear plasma going over the whole ordeal in a bubble. "Sure, whatever."

He laughed and picked up his controller, focusing his attention on the project wall once again. "Just let me finish this round."

I ran for the other controller and linked up. "I'm playing."

We eventually set foot out of the house after lunch, which was bruschettas and pannacotta, and got on the Snake. We got to Auntie Hazel's and rung the bell. Marie, who's ten, answered the door. "Fury! Maria!"

We were ushered in and sat down in the living room. After almost an hour of chatting, Fury and I gave each other the look. He nodded and I got out my phone, showing Auntie Hazel the story. "It's... it's a horror story I found and… and we'd like you to take a look."

At first, she chuckled at my horror obsession, but that laughter quickly faded when she saw what it was. "Is it theirs?" we asked, looking at each other.

She nodded sadly. "It is. I'm going to tell them you're aware, but please do not bring it up unless they do."

We nodded in understanding. "Will do."

So, it's twenty-one years on, and they're doing fine. However, if you don't believe me, here are some happenings from the past few years, to show you they're well and happy. Okay, so, maybe not the first one, but it's enormously significant, so I had to include it.

I saw a man in Walmart. He was standing in the doorway of the storage room. He had dark, wrinkled skin, his hair and beard were grey, and he was wearing a smart grey suit. He looked very old, sixty at least. I had this strange eight-year-old mentality that all men that wore suits were kind and nice, so I went up to him, stepped into the room, and asked him if he could tell me where the scooters were.

"What's your name, darling?" he asked, kneeling to my height.

Alarm bells went off in my head for some unknown reason, but I replied, being the naïve little kid I was. "Maria di Angelo-Solace!" I replied proudly, head held high and stuck my chest out.

He reached out for my wrist. "Ah, you'll be a good one," he whispered, his hand lifting up the hem of my skirt.

I was paralysed with fear, in the most cliché way, at the worst time possible. I knew this was not right. I was still frozen in place when his finger brushed my underwear. I suddenly got a rush of emotions and jerked away. "No!"

I felt bad instantly and began to offer my wrist back out, but decided against it and ran back down the aisle, ruby-red shoes clacking on the floor. He began to follow me and I began to cry. "S… st… stop it!" I spluttered.

I ran into Fury while looking over my shoulder. I fell down and he yanked me upright, ready to yell at me, until I, still sobbing and snivelling, pointed at the man. Fury, unlike me, at the time, acted on his instincts and pulled me to his chest. "Get away from my sister!"

He began walking faster and Fury ran too, pulling me along behind him. "Papà!" he shouted. "Dad!"

Papà and Dad came around the corner, Dad holding Leah's hand and Papà pushing the pushchair with the twins in. When Papà saw him, his usual olive tan was gone in an instant. He turned as white as a sheet and fainted into Dad's arms. Dad had gone scarily pale. "Fury, Maria, get back here now!" he ordered, his usually commanding voice wobbling.

I hesitated, but Fury didn't need to be asked twice. He gripped my wrist hard and dragged me back to them. "Is Papà alright?" I asked.

Dad shook his head, breath coming fast. "I need you to find a member of staff and give them a description of this man. His name is Mercury Olympus or Hermes Castellan."

"Like Uncle Luke?" I asked.

The penny dropped for Fury. "Yes," he interrupted. "Come on, Maria, we have to go."

I held his hand tight and we took off running, past the next aisle, and the next aisle, and the next. I started sobbing again and Fury couldn't stop it. I was given tissues when we got to the customer service desk. "How may I help you?" the lady, whose name was Rainbow, asked.

Fury took several shaking breaths. "Maria Maria," he called out softly, using my pet name. "Can you tell Rainbow here what happened?"

"I went up to a man and asked him where the scooters were. He went down on one knee and asked me what my name was. I told him Maria di Angelo-Solace and he said, in a really creepy voice, 'You'll be a good one' and he grabbed my wrist and…" I took several snuffling deep breaths and blew my nose, then said, in a small voice, "He lifted up my dress and touched my pants."

"And," Fury interjected quickly, face flushed bright red with fury and seething hatred. "He has brown wrinkly skin, grey hair, and he's wearing a grey suit with a black waistcoat and a grey tie. Dad said his name was either Mercury Olympus or Hermes Castellan. It's obviously something bad because Papà fainted when he saw the man, and Dad sounded totally terrified."

Eyes dry, I looked a Fury with a 'really?' look. He was using his 'I'm-talking-to-an-adult-and-this-will-have-more-effect-if-I-sound-innocent' voice. The woman's face flushed and she alerted five people via those walkie-talkie things. She told us to go back to our parents. We dashed past the entrance and almost walked past Auntie Kayla, frantically looking around. "Fury!" she called out, and we ran over.

"Auntie Kayla!" we gasped.

"I've just received a rather alarming text from your Dad," she told us.

Fury furrowed his brow. "This will probably alarm you a lot more that it did us, but a man approached Maria and lifted up her skirt and touched her underwear." His voice was shaking, as were his fists. "And I, quite frankly, want to kill him for touching my sister in that way."

He hugged me tight and I only now appreciate how protective and kind my brother is.

Auntie Kayla flushed and looked awfully angry, then Fury blew her top. "Hermes Castellan?"

She ran past us, muttering curse words. Fury gave me the look and I groaned, massaging my ankles and running after him.

When we got back to Dad and Papà only a minute later, and someone was detaining Hermes. I ran to them and blubbered out the whole story. Papà balled his fists and announced, "I want to punch him. Solace, can I punch him?"

Yes, they still call each other di Angelo and Solace. "Not now, Angel, you idiot."

It's funny to hear them blend their affectionate nicknames into insulting sentences. Once I wriggled out of Papà's protective hug, I marched over to Hermes, looked him right in the eyes, and told him, in the coolest voice I could, "I hate you. You hurt my Dad and my Papà. I hate you." Then I punched him. In the nose. And I apparently either didn't know my own strength or I had punched one too many punching bags at summer camp that year, because there was a sickening crack that made everyone in earshot wince. I broke his nose.

Even though Papà was holding back laughter, he managed to splutter, "Maria! Get back here!" and sound disapproving.

I trailed back over, shamefaced. "Sorry, Papà."

"Well done," he whispered.

"Angel!" Dad exclaimed, whacking him on the arm jokily.

Auntie Kayla almost had a seizure of laughter.

And that was the time I met Hermes Castellan.

"Fury, Maria! Auntie Bianca and Auntie Thalia are here!"

Now, I like laying in, don't get we wrong, but my Aunties coming over is just too good of an excuse to get out of bed. I threw on whatever, which was a 'Keep It Simple' t-shirt and blue jeans. I was still plaiting my hair as I ran down the stairs. "Auntie Thalia!"

She caught me as I jumped the last step, hugging me in the air before setting me down. "Maria!"

Leah pushed past me and basically demanded Auntie Bianca's attention. "Auntie Binny!"

Auntie Bianca hugged and kissed her, before turning to Papà. "Fratello!"

He smiled and hugged her. Auntie Bianca always looks so young, even though she's two years Papà's senior, so it's only around him that I truly realise how old Papà looks. "La mita belle Sorella," he replied. "How's it going?"

"Stupefacente, Nico. You?"

"Wonderful. Oh, I haven't shown you the draft of 'Buried Under Snow', have I?" he realised.

"You've done it?!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I have to see!"

They walked down the hall to Papà's office, laughing and jesting all the way.

Dad awkwardly turned to Auntie Thalia and she leapt on him with a hug. He smiled, more at ease now, and lead her into the sitting room. We followed, bickering as we walked.

Sometimes, you just want to kill people. And this was exactly the case with Josie Evans. I've been friends with Charlotte and Ethan Jackson ever since I can remember, and it started when we had to go in groups of four and, because Cherokee wasn't coming in from her holiday until the following week, Josie Evans got shoved into our group. I was highly annoyed for no reason other than I found her irritating. Until icebreakers.

We were talking and getting to know each other, and I was telling a story. Now, I knew there was a very small group of homophobic people still around, but I didn't really think much of it, as everyone I've met is so nice about it.

"So, we were going in the hot tub for one last time before we'd clean it out, and I asked Dad if we could put bubble mixture in the tub. He looked at me like I'd gone insane, but then Papà said 'We're going to clean it out anyway. Why not?' So Fury got the bubble liquid, mixed it in, and turned on the jets. And everything was bubbles. They rose like five feet above the tub and we even picked Leah up and threw her in."

Ethan was practically having a seizure of laughter and Charlotte was saying that they should do that. Then Josie spoke up. "Your parents are gay, then?"

"Yeah," I replied, pulling my plaits over my shoulders.

"That's wrong."

"No, it isn't!"

"God created us so we could fall in love and bring him children. It is physically impossible to have a child between two men or two women. God didn't want this. Any anomaly God did not create is wrong."

"Well, that's impeccable logic!" Ethan snapped. "If you're saying two men can't fall in love because of my religion, that's like saying 'you can't have this cake because I'm on a diet'! Plus, two women can have a child through science, and, quite frankly, I don't believe in God."

"So, what books do you like?" Charlotte asked, trying to steer the conversation away from homophobia.

"I'm reading 'Highway to Hell' right now," Josie told us in her whiney voice.

We held back our laughter. "That's pretty sweet," I chuckled.

"Did you know my dad wrote the Percy Jackson series?" Charlotte piped up.

"Liar," Josie snapped.

Ethan rolled his eyes. "I'm not about to waste my time arguing with an idiot. So, Charlotte, how'd Buried Under Snow coming along for your dad?"

"Reasonably well. I've read through it a couple of times, but he's scrapped so many chapters he'll need to completely rewrite the draft," I explained.

"Damn," Charlotte muttered. "How d'you think Cherokee's getting on?"

"She text me earlier. She'll be eating dinner around about now," Ethan announced.

"What?" Josie blurted.

"She's in London. Eight hours ahead."

Then Miss called us back to her attention. "I'm going to go around and you have to tell me one thing you've learnt about someone else in your group."

She picked Josie first. "I learnt," she began in her high-pitched, obnoxious, whiney voice. "That Maria's a lesbian."

"I am not!" I exclaimed, face flushed as red as my hair.

"Your parents are gay. That makes you lesbian," she sneered.

"It does not. I don't see any sort of logic in that," Ethan told her calmly. "Did you learn anything else?"

Josie frowned at him, defeated. "That she has four siblings. Two brothers and two sisters."

We moved onto me. "I learnt that Ethan and Charlotte's dad is the author of the Percy Jackson series, that Charlotte has an English penpal called Harry, and that Josie is Christian and homophobic."

My last comment elicited laughter from most of the class. Charlotte was next. "I learnt that Maria's dad's a trauma surgeon and is set to retire and go into a family practice in four years."

I nodded. "Yep."

Someone across the class smiled softly. "He's probably saved so many lives."

"Including Papà's," I whispered under my breath. "Yeah. My auntie has a book of newspaper clippings with stuff like 'Dr. Solace has done it again!' and such. It's hilarious."

"Wait, Doctor Solace?" a girl exclaimed.

I nodded, confused. "Yeah, why?"

Her eyes were shining. "He operated on my brother once."

I blushed. "Really?"

"Yeah. He saved his life."

We swiftly moved onto Ethan. "I learnt that Maria's… sorry, what do you call him again?"

"Papà, but you can just say father," I explained. He always got this wrong, as he was so used to calling him 'Uncle Nico'.

"Oh, okay. Maria's father is Nico di Angelo-Solace, author of 'Highway to Hell', 'Liar, Liar, It All Backfired', 'A Backwards Glance', 'Don't Look Back', and the upcoming 'Buried Under Snow'."

The entire class gawked at me, but Josie stuck her nose in the air. "No way. You're lying."

I groaned. "My name is Maria di Angelo-Solace on the register, and I'm in the acknowledgements for Highway to Hell."

"No, you're not. Look."

She showed me the dedications in the front. 'Dedicated to my amazing sisters, Bianca, Hazel, and Reyna. You've made this book possible.' I sighed. "No, that's the dedication. Go to the acknowledgements in the back."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, really? Let me check."

I saw her upper hand disappear as she read the acknowledgements. 'Thanks to my wonderful husband and five children, for letting me write anywhere in the house at whatever obscure time. Right now, that's the window seat in Maria's bedroom as she plays Monopoly with Fury, Leah, Isa, and Fergus.' She groaned. "Fine."

She's less annoying now, but there's always the possibility of making Papà add in a villain called Josie for his next children's' book…

See, I told you they were alive and well! Anyway, this is truly the end of this story now, so I'd like to thank you all very much for reading and I hope you have an amazing day. And don't forget, this is a warning. Be safe and report anything dodgy.

Anyway, that's all I have to say. I hope you enjoyed the ending to the story, though my writing isn't a patch on Papà's nowadays. Stay Strong and have a good morning, afternoon, evening, or night!

Ciao!