Half Brother

I stared out the clear window, my eyes were following the objects that flew by. I was thinking about the last time. The thought was followed by a loud sigh that rumbled through my throat. I WAS thinking about the last time I saw… him. His cold stare flashed through my memories, his dark brown eyes, uncomforting and suspicious. I had mixed emotions: was I supposed to be happy to go see him? Why should I? He never wanted a little sister, we don’t even have the same mothers. I glanced up at the gray sky, I managed to stick a small grin on my face. Even if I didn’t seem happy, I was, and I didn’t know why. For all the times that he acted bitter, and laughed at my small body. Why was I happy? My thought stopped as the car stopped.

My grandfather pushed the middle of the steering wheel, which made a loud “ BEEP”. I glanced over at the small house that we stopped at, the small door opened. And he came out. “ Hey Johnny!” Grandpa greeted him. I smiled, or tried to smile, and quickly pat the seat next to me. I wanted him to sit next to me, so he could be nice to me, and liked having a little sister.

John stared bitterly at me, he shook his head, that face reminded me to much of my fathers. His next word stabbed me in the back, he said: “ No”. But he sat there anyways, there wasn’t anywhere else to sit but the trunk, and I knew he wouldn’t want to sit there. I sighed as the car started moving.

It was only when we go to the first stop sign, when I had no idea where we were going. I opened my mouth to ask but stopped myself when we arrived at a grocery store. I glanced around the parking lot. John excitedly jumped out of the car. I raised an eyebrow. John went up to do a man hug with a complete stranger. Or a complete stranger to me. Why was this person coming into the car? I heard him say that this was his best friend, maybe his friend will be nice to me. I smiled, I hesitated to say hi. He glanced at me, with bitter eyes that I know all to well. I had a feeling that this stranger already knew who I was. And he probably didn’t care, nor did John.

We went to lunch, I had macaroni and cheese, and John… I forget. After that, the ride home was so boring, I got a headache. When we got home, or my grandmothers house, John and his friend were in the living room watching TV. I let out a small sigh, boredom always got to me when John visited, except for the times when he teased me. A few hours later, John’s friend went home. John teased me again, and again, and again after that.

I hated those visits, but I got over it a while after my father died and I hadn’t seen John since.

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