Unconventional

Prologue:

“Hi reader. Help me tell a story would you? Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. I’m Marvin by the way. I’m 17, and I have both a step mom and step dad. But it’s probably not the way you might think. Let me share with you, what leads us into the story. Your name is Evelyn. You were my mom’s best friend and you had always been close to our family, you’ve been like a second mom since I was born. My mom Kate died when I was 7. It was only natural, plus I expected it in some way, that you fell in love with my dad Jonathan. When you were both ready he proposed and with my blessing, you both tied the knot. My dad passed away when I was 9. Seeing how lonely you became, and at my request to start dating, you met the man who would become my stepdad Stan when I turned 11. you fell in love again and we became a family. I was ring bearer. Stan earned my respect early on, not trying to replace my dad. He is a stable father figure, and loves and treats me as his own son. With that, turn the page and we’ll dive right in.”

Chapter 1:

You just mopped and cleaned the house. When you finish everything, sit down on the couch and turns on the tv. I come in as you scroll through your phone.
“Hey Evie. Is Stan not home yet?” I ask with a sense of urgency.
“He’s at work,” you reply, not looking up from your phone. “Why?”
“I,” hesitating, “need help with something.”
You look up from your phone, seeing the distress on my face. “Sweetie what’s wrong? You know I’m here to help you.”
“I’d rather talk to Stan.” I blurt out.
“You know I love you right Marv? You can talk to me about anything.”
“I JUST WANT MY DAD!” I showy and storm off. As I make a hasty retreat to my bedroom, you make a phone call.
“Stan, you need to get home now. Marvin is having a very bad day.”
After hanging up with Stan, you follow me to my room and stand outside.
Knock, knock, knock. “Go away!” I shout.
You knock again and sit down in the hallway waiting patiently. “I said Go away!” I throw something at the door I don’t know what it was, but it was heavy. Knowing I’ll relent, you knock one more time. I get upset and open the door. “DON’T YOU GET IT? I don't want you! I just want to be alone! You can't help me! I don't even know if Stan can help me!"
After a few minutes, you break the silence. “Stan and I love you very much sweetheart. We would do anything to keep you safe and happy. You know that, right?” You attempt to reassure me.
“You want to help me?! Stop pretending to be my real Mom!” Right as I say it, I feel like I just stabbed you right in the heart. Which is what it feels like to you. Instantly regretting my outburst, I embrace you in a sobbing guilt against your chest. No words are spoken, just the sound of our grief. My tears soaking your shirt as I cry myself to sleep in your bosom as you hold me tight, stroking my hair waiting for Stan to come home.
As your own tears run your makeup, you start to taste the effects. This experience has left you drained. Your thoughts are all over the place. You don’t know how to feel, but you do know that you’re not mad. You also know that what I said came from a very dark place, and that I didn’t mean any of it. It still tore you up inside hearing those words. Especially for the first time. You need time to process all this, and you still don’t know what caused me to spiral into exhaustion.
As Stan’s car pulls up in the driveway, your thoughts shift to explaining the situation as best you can. You hear the door open. “Marv? Evie?” He’s finally home.
You answer calmly projecting your voice, “we’re in the hallway Stan!” Upon seeing both of us, a single tear escapes his eye. He takes us into his strong arms and rocks us back and forth, planting a fatherly kiss on my head. There we all were, right on the floor outside my bedroom. Looking through the doorway, Stan notices the last family photo of me and my biological parents, the frame lying there, glass and wood scattered all over, shattered into a million pieces. You’d think he’d say something about the mess, or the loss of my most precious treasure, but no. No words. No new information. Stan’s priorities are clear as day. All he knows is his wife and son need him. And he’s here.

Thank you for reading this. I don’t know where to take it, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. It’s been a while since I published anything.