My New Stepbrother

1

Angel

You know, living in a huge house with loads of money and no one to share it with other than a moody step brother would normally sound like anyone's dream. Not having to share with needful little siblings, and not ever wanting for anything was pretty much the American dream. At least, that's what I always thought.

When I found out my mother was getting married to Peter, my stepfather, I wasn't actually that upset about it. My mother, my dear old mother; the woman who struggled constantly in life, was finally managing to catch a break. Whenever my dad passed, thanks to an unlucky turn of events in a brutal war that was taking place in another country all the way across the world, my life was shattered. I pondered the meaning of everything and everyone. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out the purpose of living if nothing was permanent.

My dad was a saint, and surely didn't deserve to die—especially not something as random and pitiful as stepping on a land mine. A land mine of all things! I mean how awful, and sudden. I'd prefer it to be dragged out by something more...torturous. How woefully predictable it would've been if he passed from something like cancer. I would've at least gotten to say my goodbyes.

When I found out, of course I was devastated:

the man was my hero.

However, my mother was more devastated than I. She fell into a depression, and stopped talking to me for the most part. She started working two jobs just to keep a roof over our head, so I rarely saw her. I got a job too, to help out with smaller bills like water or trash. Still, despite our best efforts she was drowning in debt, and I was drowning in sadness and loneliness.

I couldn't bring myself to care about anything at school, or anyone for that matter. I lost all my friends; although, in their defense they tried their hardest to be there for me. They were semi decent people. Soon though, like all humans and relationships they faded away into nothingness. They stopped trying to care about me...and I couldn't blame them.

All of that changed whenever mom strutted through the front door one day though. I was working on homework in a last ditch effort to pass chemistry. She wore this bright kilowatt smile on her face, one I hadn't seen since we picked up dad from the airport after one of his long deployments. Her blonde hair was styled nicely, in curls that cascaded down her back, and her blue green eyes glowed. She looked like—a child. Just happy for no apparent reason.

"What happened?" I asked, chewing the eraser on my pencil.

"I met this man." She rushed to me, taking a seat at the table. "Angel, he's rich. And sort of old...but he was speaking like he was looking for a woman in his life."

She put her hand on my shoulder and smiled again. "He gave me his number and told me to call him; I think I will."

"What?" I was outraged. "But what about dad?"

She looked at me, the smile fading away from her face. Those familiar cold, dead eyes returned instead of the eyes that were glowing just two seconds ago.

"Your father is dead. He left us here...on this pathetic earth, without him to fend for ourselves." She swallowed. "So that's what we have to do."

"But mom, we're doing just fine"

I wanted to cry. I didn't want anything to change, and I didn't want to forget my fathers memory by replacing him with some new man. He had barely been dead for six months at this point.

"No we aren't!" Her eyes were large, bulging out of her skull. "I am up to my nose in debt, the house is this close to being foreclosed on! Your father and I never even arranged getting some life insurance in place, so I don't even have that to fall back on." She buried her head into her hands.