One week later...

Do you know what's worse than planning a funeral for your family before you even leave high school?

Planning a funeral for your family during summer vacation while dealing with the words of spiteful relatives who think tha it should've been YOU who died instead.

And that was my case as the rest of my school year flew by without warning. There were obituaries to write, guests to greet, meals to cook, clothes to wash, and relatives to comfort. And on top of finishing my finals, no less. It was a blessing to have Mr. Tucker and his brood to lend a hand, or else I might've been too tired even fix myself a bite to eat.

And with regards to my extended relatives- my aunts, uncles, cousins, and family friends? If you think that I got one bit of sympathy from them, well...

Demarcus and DeSean had their lives ahead of them and they were the keys to bringing greatness to the family! And they're dead all because of you!

You're a bad-luck coin in this family, boy. You bring nothing but bad karma.

Robert and Vivian should've had you aborted the week they found out that they were having you. It might have made this family better off without you in it.

God don't like ugly. He don't like pretty. And he sho' don't like plain folks. You being the plain kid in our lineage proves that you are what we hate. You make me sick!

Again, folks, aren't they lovely people?

But as always, I kept my mouth shut and my emotions bottled up as the joint homegoing celebration for my parents and siblings came and went without a hitch. But it didn't do me any good since I was the one to do all the work while the relatives were the ones to sit back and pray that I fall on my ass.

I swear to y'all that I considered it a miracle that I kept my cool over the years.

But even through all of that, I never wished my parents and siblings any ill will against them. I mean, they're no Cleavers who kept it wholesome or the Evans who made the most of any situation; but I still honored and respected them with all of my heart, never asking for anything in return. And they were gone all because of some party-loving doofuses thought it would be great to drive intoxicated and stoned that would claim their lives as well as my family's.

Dad and Mom died instantly as did Demarcus from the fatal impact. Camilla, Shantay and DeSean died within minutes of each other while en-route to the hospital.

And I was spared from the hands of death because Mom thought it would be bad luck to take me with them to meet with some college reps for the brothers at Texas Southern.

All I could say was...what now?

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

The funeral services came and went, and the topic soon changed to my future. Or rather, a reading of the will by my mother's private attorney (a willow-thin Latina named Ms. Suarez). Of course, all the money that was saved up by Mom and Dad and any of their properties all went to my aunts and uncles while my cousins all got what my brothers and sisters left behind. That left me with...well, nothing other than a measly five dollars (which was snatched up by Cousin Ray-Ray, a soon-to-be convict who was given one final chance to say farewell before he was to be locked up for drug dealing).

And as for where I was to stay?

My father's parents Douglas and Evangeline didn't want to take me in. "It's too much work taking care of young folks. We got the economy to consider," Grandfather Douglass said gruffly. It's not like I was a newborn kid or anything. I could easily stay out of their way and help out with their bills by getting a job.

Mom's younger sister Denise and her newlywed husband Trey (both of them horny and worse than my brothers in sex) thought about taking me in; but they wanted to start from scratch with child-rearing. And though they wanted boys, they didn't want a teenager. "No offense, but we want to raise a boy straight from birth," Denise said, giving me a sad smile.

At least she and her husband were apologetic, unlike her brother (Mom's second-oldest brother) Carl and his witch of a wife Ellen. He thought that raising boys in his home with his five precious little angelic daughters (yeah, right- five hell-raising pre-teen drama queens) would only cause disaster. "And even if I wanted to, you're too much of a wimp around me," spat the flabby ex-athlete who messed up his chances of a promising basketball career.

All three of my father's sisters (Yvonne, Candace, and Amelia) loved living the single life too much to take me in. "It would ruin our image," Candace said, giving me a sneer. "Plus, the runt might wish for us to disappear, which was probably the case when our brother and his family left this earth too soon."

And not even my great-aunts and uncles were considerate enough to allow me to stay in their homes, citing that I "might kill them in their sleep." What? I couldn't even begin to fathom.

All in all, ladies and germs, I was now disowned and cut away from the Bader-Simmons-Ingram family when everyone heard my mother's last words to me. And what she said to me through a recording would officially seal my fate.

Demario Bader. The one child that I had hoped would die early...had finally outlived me and everyone else. Pitiful. I wished that I could go back in time and had your father give me a blowjob that night when we had conceived you. We were careful when we were conceiving your siblings, but were foolishly drunk when it came to you. But no matter. You will always be the bane of our existence, no matter what you do. You're never good enough for anything but being unwanted. So it's fitting to say this here and now: I, Vivian Emmeline Ingram Bader, being of sound mind and unsound body, leave you, Demario Noah Bader, with nothing but my endless contempt and hatred that I wish would follow you to the end of time. You are no longer a part of the family and any of my earnings and financial savings are not to be allotted to you by any circumstances. In short, you wretched little shit, you are not to have anything but your pathetic life. I wish for thunder and lightning to kill you.

With that, the circle of haters cheered and left to the hip-hop trash that my mother loved to play, dancing to the conga with all of what my family left behind, leaving a gobsmacked Ms. Suarez, the livid Tucker family, and me alongside a now-empty apartment.

The lawyer turned to me, a look of sadness on her face. "Mr. Bader, I am so sorry that you got stuck with that family," she said, anger lacing in her Hispanic brogue. "I wished that your mother would have some decency to leave you behind something that can-"

"Ma'am, I expected this," I interrupted. "No offense, but with families like mine, who needs enemies?"

Ms. Suarez sighed. "Well, there is one final thing that your mother wanted me to address," she said, "and as much as I tried to talk her out of it, she wouldn't budge. It's the apartment."

"What?" Mr. Tucker said as he and his wife came to my side. "What did that woman say?"

The youthful attorney looked regretful, her hazel eyes being full of pity. "She dictated that in the event that you outlived her, your father, and your siblings before you even graduated high school that you are to be kicked out of the apartment in seven days," she intoned. "She wanted you to be left with nothing at all, not even a place for you to stay."

"She can't do that!" Mrs. Tucker, a fifty-year-old woman who owned a floral shop nearby, said indignantly.

"She can and she did, I'm afraid. And unfortunately, she wants you gone seven days from now."

Mr. Tucker and his wife and two daughters (the young ladies on summer vacation from Southern Methodist University) gave me looks of pity. "This isn't right," remarked Valerie (the oldest of the twins), shaking her head as her braids wagged. "Demario, your mother is a witch from hell. I hope she burns for it."

"Valerie," her twin Zoe reprimanded. To me, "You got a good head, Demario. Your family didn't know how good they got it."

"Agreed," hummed Ms. Suarez, nodding her head as she collected her things. "May God bless you, young man." She hurried walked out of the apartment with the twins following behind her.

Mr. Tucker faced me. "I'll make some calls to find out where you can stay, son," he promised me, giving me a fatherly smile. "My wife and I will be by later with some food since everyone else cleaned out the pantry and fridge and threw everything out."

I only nodded as I watched the older man and his wife- two saintly people who hardly knew me but were decent enough to consider me as a son- leave the room.

I wish for thunder and lightning to kill you.

I wish for thunder and lightning to kill you.

I wish for thunder and lightning to kill you.

And wouldn't you know it, it was beginning to rain outside with a flash of lightning brightening the now-cloudy sky while a loud clap of thunder echoed vehemently.

I was now alone.

Damn.

This chapter was...wow.

None of his aunts, uncles, cousins, or friends of the family wanted him around. And they all hated him.

And while we won't hear much from them in the story, they'll be mentioned here in there.

But coming up next...Demario has a plan to escape his madness, but fate says otherwise. And I have to warn you that the next chapter is full of angst, suicidal thoughts and ideations, and mental health triggers. Reader discretion is advised.

Dedication: JacobStoneWriter and AdrielleReina.

Vote.
Comment.
Share.
Follow.
Add.
FAN!