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"Gaige, wake up, mom and Brad have already let you sleep in," Gaige rolled his face in the rough pillowcases at the sound of Krista's annoyed voice. When Gaige didn't lift his head up or push back his covers, Krista lets out another annoyed scuff, "Get up, moms mad your laying around and didn't come to church with us. And I'm mad I have to be your alarm clock. Set your own alarm," Then loudly stomped out of Gaige's new room without shutting the door. 

Gaige lets out a sigh into the chocolate-colored pillowcase, before throwing himself onto his back, to stare at the white popcorn ceiling. He blinks his red, tired eyes, obviously tired even though he went to bed incredibly early last night. Gaige chews on his lower lip, reaching for his phone that was resting on his bedside table, before scrolling through his social media. He frowns at the time when he catches it. 8:30? It was only 8:30 am on a Sunday. What time does this family go to church in the morning? Fucking five in the morning?

To: Brotha Anotha Motha

First, they wake me up at eight in the fucking morning and then inform me they've already gone to church? Is it normal to wake up that early for cult meetings?? Hmu when you wake up I'll have been up for hours

Sun 8:35am

Then Gaige throws back his many layers of blankets -many he applied at night after searching for them in the closet, and cringes at the cold hardwood on his feet when he stands up. Gaige scratches the back of his head as he shuffles down the hallway and stairs, past the living room where Brad and Chester watch Sunday morning educational cartoons, and into the kitchen where Erin scrubs clean a griddle. Gaige saw no sign of Milton or Krista. 

When she hears Gaige's shuffling behind her. She blows a piece of hair out of her face, barely managing to get rid of the annoyance on her face, "Oh, there you are," Erin set down her rag and takes off the pink dish gloves before leaning on the counter, "Brad can you come in here for a moment?"

Gaige blinks, furrowing his brows as his father slowly rises from the couch in the living room to come to join his wife and elder biological son in the kitchen. Gaige hates looking like his father, who's leaning on the kitchen island with a cup of coffee now. 

Gaige never looked like his mother and that's why they made better friends than mother and son. He had shaggy dirty blonde hair that never fell right unlike his mother whose brunette waves swirled on her shoulders. Her tan shoulders. Gaige never grew out of his burning instead of tanning stage of life despite living in since he was five. Instead, Gaige inherited pale white skin from his father, so pale he was often asked if he was sick. Perhaps from his lack of nutrients. It didn't help he had constant bags under his eyes, and not much but skin and bones. 

Like his father, Gaige was a very self-conscience man. Tall, lanky, clumsy, thick, heavy set eyebrows, easily gave up and didn't like to raise his voice. But unlike his dad. Gaige was an angry boy, a grudge holder, and stubborn. Which meant he was not about to be pushed over by his stepmother, Erin.

"Gaige, we need to set a few ground rules if you are going to be living under our roof," Unwillingly, "First, last night was unacceptable. We do not use curse in this household. I understand you didn't know last night, but after today cursing will be punished. With such a young child, we try encouraging the use of more educated words. Secondly, your tone was unacceptable. You will never use that tone with Brad or I."

Gaige looks over at his father who is only nodding along with Erin's words and staring down at his nice shoes. Gaige sighs, knowing he shouldn't expect anything else form his cowardice father. 

Erin continues, "Other rules, curfew is at ten o'clock. Your school starts at 7-30. Milton and Krista leave the house at seven, so be ready by then in the morning or be prepared to ride a bicycle to school. They will be stopping by at seven even on the weeks they're at their fathers', so you must still be ready by then. Neither your father or I am going to give you a ride to make up for your mistake," Brad shakes his head, still not looking up, "Breakfast is at eight on Saturdays, and church services start at seven on Sunday-"

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