Demario. Demario Noah Bader.

That's me.

To describe me would be easy if you saw me on the street: five-foot-nine, around 165lbs, light-chocolate-brown skin, closely cropped hair, and beanpole-thin.

And if you saw me right now on the streets of Bellvue Park (the rougher side of Fort Worth, Texas) you'd think that I'm an easy target for bullies to use as a punching bag, a whipping boy to use as a fall guy, or just someone to harass.

Not in my case, ladies and gentlemen...well, maybe it is to an extent.

You see, my family usually views me as someone as the whipping boy or a slave to toss chores upon chores on me while berating me for not being, and I quote you, "a true Bader man who lives by the code of the streets" or "not being enough for anything but an unwanted house pest." And it mainly comes from my domineering mother who rules the small apartment that consists of her, my mousy father (who's too much of a wimp to fight her or any woman), my loud-mouthed jocks of twin older brothers Demarcus and DeSean (both of them seniors in high school and football legends) and my younger sisters Camilla and Shauntay (both middle-school divas who take after Mom in all the wrong ways).

And since I'm usually the middle child of the family who was known to be the normal and forgotten about, I was everyone's perfect prey as I bore the brunt of their barbed words while doing their chores.

Why the hell are you even here in our family, boy? You're not even masculine enough like your brothers- just like your father, a pathetic wimp. Ain't good for nothing.

Why can't you be more outgoing like your sisters?

You always want to go out somewhere with us when we don't want you around? Get out of my sight and do something useful with your ratty behind.

You ain't serious enough.

You're too serious.

Yeah, folks. All of that came from Mommy Dearest (a hard-faced middle-aged woman who got married too young and got older way too quick to a preacher's kid whose sisters also saw him as a whipping boy- poor man) who got her pay as a security guard at a bank while also getting by with welfare checks.

Anyway, my brothers mainly saw me as a maid to clean after them and as a schoolwork curator so they could continue to dominate the fields in hopes of making it to the NFL (that would make Mom and Dad happy, if not enough to finally get rid of me) while my sisters mainly saw me as the maid and a jungle gym for their friends (or a small punching bag for their young male suitors).

As far as my extended relatives were concerned? Well, Mom's side of the family viewed me as someone who needed to be horse-whipped for being full of skin and bones while my paternal aunts all but spewed hints of how easy it would be to make me disappear.

I pray that you got a back-up plan after graduation, chile. With your build and how your mother hates you, I wouldn't be surprised if something did happen to you.

You need to get some pussy in you, boy! Get yourself some meat on your brittle bones and let a woman take good care of you. You too much of a cheap punk to be seen by anyone these days.

I wished that your momma had you aborted, Demario. You're like a bad penny that's everywhere in this apartment. No wonder that your family don't want you around.

Lovely people, am I right?

Anyway, one would think that I'd grew a backbone and finally cuss them out properly. Sadly, I just let their words pierce through me like bullets through metal as I washed the clothes, do the dishes, cook the meals, and even pay the bills. And I never even complained as everyone else got to dress in nice clothes and ate out more often than the times they stayed in and I cooked for their behinds (and it didn't do me any good since I wasn't allowed to eat more than allowed- two meals per week) while I had to live off the leftovers and got hand-me-downs (if Mom was feeling lenient enough to me, which was rare). I just gritted my teeth and bore it all while berating myself for not being enough.

I'm sorry for not being what you all wanted.

I'm sorry for not being cool enough, man enough, strong enough, or even brave enough to tell you all how I feel.

The only thing that kept me going was the saintly landlord named Mr. Tucker and his family, all of them grateful enough to see me as a hard-working teenager and made sure to sneak in a few meals when everyone else left me to fend for myself (i.e: when Mom padlocked the fridge and pantry so I wouldn't try to steal anything- her words, not mine) and made sure that I had some clean clothes to wear.

I also had the love of my maternal grandmother Lottie Jean Ingram (the only person in Mom's family) who appreciated me for who I was and made sure that I had at least a few dollars in my pocket (before Demarcus would snatch it away for his food). Sadly, she died when I was in ninth grade, leaving me to face down the vultures that wanted me out of their lives.

In their eyes, I was like a rat that couldn't be killed and somehow stayed alive. They wanted my luck to run out. But somehow, I made it this far.

**************

School made my life more bearable. It's mainly because everyone at Frederick Douglass High School (home of the Grizzlies) just ignored me. Even the most-hardened gang-bangers and jocks didn't bother to lay their hands on me, which I'm very grateful. As for the teachers, they just gave me more homework and  brushed me off.

And even though I was happy for all that since I'm a nerd in every way, I wanted someone to talk to and hopefully make all my problems disappear. I wanted a true friend that could give my family the shakedown to make them see that I had enough class and talent to prove them wrong.

But as always, I was left alone.

Just like I was when I was sitting down to a pitiful lunch of a measly cheeseburger with little flavor, some floppy fries, and a brownie (which was more appealing). I had just finished the last of the finals (as well as taking those for the football team under the insisting pleas of a burly coach who could break a nerd's neck with his work-worn hands). Everyone else seemed into their own little world with the stones planning their next puff-puff pass gathering, the baby mamas wanting to plan their next escapades and gossiping about who's sleeping with who, and the gangsters wanting to plan a basketball game on the courts.

Oh, yeah. It was almost summer vacation- the one thing that I dreaded since it meant a full vacation of playing housemaid to my unappreciative family and their friends.

"Mr. Bader?"

I looked up from my food to see Principal Sammons standing over me with a look of sadness in his eyes. "Yes, sir?" I asked, clearing my throat. "Is anything the matter?"

The dark-skinnned fiftyish-year-old man (who was a former college football player) sighed heavily, his shoulders slouched as if he was tasked to do something that he hated. "Son, I am so sorry," he said gravely as the cafeteria fell to a whisper, cell phones pinging as if everyone was hit with some news.

I didn't like what this was leading. "Sir, what's going on?" I asked.

And then, the news was dropped on me like the atomic bomb: My parents, sisters, and brothers were killed in a fatal car crash off I-20 coming into downtown Fort Worth.

And just like that...my life changed forever.

Well, folks, you finally met Demario Bader and got a glimpse of his un-charmed life as a Black-American man with a toxic family living in Texas. I can see why you all want to hate his family, but they'll be mentioned in flashbacks as the story goes on.

Anyway, we'll see Demario dealing with the lost of his parents and siblings as he deals with spiteful relatives before knowing where he will be living in the next chapter. And folks, you're going to want to brace yourselves for what's ahead because the next two chapters will be when things hit the first of  turning points for Demario Bader.

Dedication: OnlyoneJoJo. Song: "Why Me" by Jess Glynne.

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