Another Broken Family

CHAPTER 1 . REVISED

It's sad to say; but most everyone has some story of heartbreak, tragedy, betrayal, or abuse.
They talk about the calm before the storm, and a rainbow once the storm passes but why does no one talk about the storm itself?

As I lay in bed, struggling to close my eyes; I watch the seconds, minutes, hours tick by.

11:45PM
12:26AM
1:03AM
2:38AM
3:05AM

Fuck, I think to myself, My alarm is in an hour, I may as well just get up.

As I roll out of bed, I contemplate dressing up for the day. "Might as well, I don't have to be anywhere until 4:30 anyway." I sluggishly head over to my barren walk-in closet; as nice as dressing up sounds, it also sounds like a lot of work. I opt for my slightly-dressier emo look instead. Which of course consists of an old, faded ACDC shirt; splatter-bleach jeans; and once black (accidentally) splatter-bleached converse.

Once dressed I drag myself into the bathroom I switch on the light and as usual I'm blinded by 4 bright ass LED bulbs, I set my straightener on to heat up while I get my contacts in. My right eye stings, reminding me the lenses need to be replaced; just another thing to add to the list of shit I need and can't afford.
Then I decide its time to examine last night's damage to my hair - I showered then immediately passed out so unsurprisingly the girl looking back at me appears to have a bird's nest instead of actual hair.
Running a comb through it absolutely isn't happening so I do my best to wet my brush and half assed brush the tangles out, followed by a straightening iron on the worst spots - it beats my usual messy bun look I guess.
Then comes my makeup routine I so rarely have time to take part in anymore, this actually is my favorite part so I take my time with it. Slowly running concealer under my eyes, then foundation, blush, do I really need to talk you through it all?

Seeing as how it's only just now 4:00AM, I still have time for breakfast so I make my way into the kitchen for a nice hearty meal of whatever I can find.
Along the way, I'm reminded of my own lonesome...
Dad died from complications to a bullet while stationed in Iraq when I was ten, mom followed him a couple years later in a head-on collision with a drunk driver. DHS sent me to live with my grandmother afterwards, who passed in her sleep about a month ago. DHS has decided seventeen is old enough to be self sufficient, despite still being a high school student. They set me up with an apartment in Arnett, Oklahoma and my caseworker helped me get on at a nearby gas station part time from 4:30AM until 7:45AM when I leave for school, I get out around 2 to make an hour's drive keeping up with some rich kids until about 9:30, I still barely get by but I manage. 2-3 times a week I'm visited by various DHS employees to make sure I'm staying on track though I'm not sure what happens if they report that I'm derailing.

I'm pulled from my depressing inner ramblings by a knock at the door, I open it to find an ancient looking woman with too bright lipstick and what appears to be a permanent scowl.
"Hello, can I help you." I'm definitely not expecting anyone to stop by at 4 o'clock in the morning, I couldn't imagine what she might want from me.
"You're Aphrodite Tate Nethercutt." Not a question, more of a statement.
"Yes ma'am." Okay...
"Good. My name is Ms. Seymour, I work with a different branch of DHS than you're familiar with, are you aware of having a 10 year old brother?"
"I'm sorry?" Okay so for 1, I know I'm my mom's only kid. And they were married years before I was born. So what? She sighs, sounding almost bored; unphased by the fact that my whole world's just been flipped upside down.
"Clearly not. I hate to speak ill of the dead," Not even the slightest hint of remorse, still sounds bored to me, "But your father was not just seeing someone else, they were engaged as well. According to the lengthy letter she wrote, he was to divorce your mother when he came home. Seeing as how he never came home, he never had the chance to break the news." I get that this is her job, but fuck man, maybe be a little more sensitive to the topic?
"I'm sorry, so my dad had a mistress who was raising his second child? He's been gone for almost 10 years now, how am I just finding this out?" Of course I'm thrilled to have some kind of family somewhere out there... but my dad cheated? He was in love with another woman and lied to my mom for who knows how long...
"When she had the boy, she claimed the father was unknown. It was a lie of course, to keep him from facing claims of adultery in the military. When she passed, she left a letter explaining everything; of course we were reluctant to believe but after blood work and the undeniable fact that he looks so much like your father, it was all the proof we needed. Sadly, our systems are not the most organized. The letter and the boy have been bouncing around while we've searched and searched for his only living relative - you."
"This is so much to take in, and so early in the morning no less... how did you know I'd be awake?"
"Yesterday I spoke with the case worker most familiar with your case, she told me you're rarely home and you should be awake by this time. Obviously I came as soon as I had the chance."
"Okay... well... when can I meet my... uh... brother?" The words felt so unnatural, my brother. Is this a dream?
"I've already informed the family, they're expecting us around 6. Are you ready to go now? It's a bit of a drive."
"My caseworker should have told you, I have work in 20 minutes." She scoffed, seeming almost offended for whatever reason.
"Nonsense, they've been contacted as well. They're not expecting you today." With that covered, she took a step back and headed for the elevator; silently telling me there will be no more questions.
Once we get in the car, Ms. Seymour hands me a crumpled envelope. His mistress must have written this shortly after having him because the corners are beginning to yellow and the envelope has gone soft on the edges, implying it's been passed around. Probably until it could find its way to me.
I'd been in a state of shock up until now, a mix of emotions began to wash over me like a tsunami; had I been standing I would have crumbled into pieces on the floor. Hurt: my dad, the man I loved so much... he was just gonna turn his back on us, on mom... for a woman she probably never knew existed. Confusion: my dad was such a good man... I thought... how could he have fooled my mom for so long? Disbelief: I knew my dad, he was my hero, he'd never walk out on us like that... would he? But most of all, excitement: I thought I was so alone in the world, and this whole time I've had a little brother, who's equally as alone and probably scared...
Once I found I was able to collect myself once more, I lifted the tab on the envelope. It revealed thick, cream colored paper. Like the kind of paper you imagine the Declaration of Independence was written on. It read:

Dear Reader, March 27th, 2010

I've had a heavy heart since the passing of my fiancé just last year, he brought so much joy and laughter into my life; I'd never experienced that kind of euphoria before him, and I'll never experience it again now that he's gone. I find getting by each passing day exceedingly harder than the last, how my heart aches to be held by him once more.
While I thought maybe my beautiful son; the only thing I have left of what once was, what should have been might could get me through the chaos and heartache that's left inside, it would seem as though I was wrong. I love my boy so dearly, but he looks more and more like his father every day and I'm so wracked with pain and guilt I'm unsure as to how much longer I can do this. I know it's unfair, the poor boy's already lost his father before ever having the chance to know him but I just know we were soulmates, meant to be together forever.
Please don't take me for a bad mother, my loss cripples me; I have nothing left to give my poor sweet boy. While I intend to hold out for as long as I possibly can, I know one day the pain of my loss will eventually take me. I need to know someone out there is still looking out for my baby boy.
Something I managed to keep secret, and it will stay this way until this letter is found - my boy is the son of an already married man. He was supposed to divorce her and leave his daughter when he came home, sadly that never got to happen. But I'm sure the girl and her mother can take him in, I never bothered with the name of the mother, but the girl's name is Aphrodite Tate Nethercutt, I need somebody to find them for the well-being of my baby. They will take him in, I'm so very sure.

With much love and appreciation,
Astrid Favel.