Vocab Story: Juniors 3-4

My alarm clock blares out a repetitive scream for the fifth time this morning, and I have to stop myself from hitting the snooze button once again. I roll easily to the ground, remembering that my mattress is currently missing a frame. Looking around, I see avuncular paintings on the walls all around me and my little sister, still sound asleep, next to me in her own mattress. My only patrimony, a small, slightly singed, photograph of my parents at their wedding, is in it's frame next to me. All of my other belongings are still packed.
   Unwillingly, I find myself drifting through the path that has led me to the floor of the guest bedroom in my uncle's house. Well, luckily for you, unlikely happenings are a familial experience. We all have at least one to tell. This is mine.
   My parents were wed through a bigamous ceremony. Both of them were already married, and legally, they were never married to each other because their past marriage licenses still stood. Of course, this immediately brought up some difficulties for their relationship. Monogamy was the style of their relationship, though legally they had two partners. However, they only had eyes for each other. My father was utterly uxorious, and my mother was smitten. So when they decided to split last year, it was a disastrous affair. My mother tried to run from her feelings and somehow ended up serving a matriarchy in Guatemala. This left my little sister and I with my father, who wanted to keep our names patronymic to his.
   Of course my sister and I were upset about the breakup, but everything wasn't as rocky as it felt like it should have been for a few months after it happened. About two months ago, my father started spending copious amounts of time at the Chinese restaurant downtown. He seemed to be fraternizing with someone, and he became distant.
   Last Wednesday, my father called my fraternal uncle and told him of his plans to run away with the fortune cookie lady. When my uncle begged him to step down, my dad accused my uncle of patronizing him and stormed off. In some sort of rage, my dad's truck was set on fire, and my childhood home was consumed in a matter of minutes.
   My uncle was the only person able enough to pick up my sister and I.
   I sigh and put my hand out to shake my sister into consciousness. I guess we all have at least one crazy story to tell.