Little Brother

Papa died a week ago. But, I really wasn't that sad about it. Papa was always mean to me, he always said that I was the reason that Mama left. He died when he drove his car off the side of the bridge and he fell into the water. No one knew that I was home until three days ago though when they came to throw all of Papa's stuff out so they could give the house to a different family. I still had my toy ax and two bags full of my stuff. They were little bags.

"We can't locate his mother."

I can hear the voices on the other side of the door and I grip sadly onto the wooden bench, of course Mama wouldn't want me. Who would, I'm loud and annoying and my hair sticks up and my favorite toy is a plastic ax and I smile too much, Papa said no one would ever want me. So Mama must be hiding from me. I can feel pressure build up in my chest and I can't see anything because everything is blurry. No I'm not sad.

"Does he have any other family?"

No. Papa didn't have any parents and Mama didn't either. But still I can hear them going through papers.

"A younger half-brother in Sweden," What, but Papa said that without him I would be alone, I had a brother; I could feel the pressure lift from my chest. I wasn't alone, "But he lives with his father, the man doesn't have any reason to take the boy in." Oh. I frown; hope leaving as soon as it came.

I hear a sigh on the other side of the door, "Call anyway, I don't want to send another kid to a group home because of a suicide."

"Yes sir." I can hear tapping on the other side of the door along with footsteps towards the little room I was in. The door opened and the Politi who had brought me here walked into the room.

"Hey kid," He said sitting down next to me, "It's o.k. to cry you know."

"I know." I said looking down at my toy ax.

After a moment the Politi shifted uncomfortably where he sat, "Do you know if your father left a note before he left a week ago?"

"No, he didn't. Papa hated to write."

The officer looked slightly more uncomfortable, "Sometimes when people do something like this they leave notes to their family to tell them why."

"You're going to be all alone."

"What?"

"That's what he said before he left. He was mad at me for being me and he was drunk. That's why Papa drove off the bridge." I said shaking.

The officer put his hand on my shoulder, "Its o.k. kid, you're not going to be alone."

I sobbed and hugged the man. But I didn't believe him. If Papa and Mama didn't want me then who would?

I sat on the train holding my toy battle ax in my lap. It was a long trip to Sweden but Mr. Oxenstrblahblah didn't have the money for me to come by plane. I was still surprised when the officer who had found me said that my half-brother's father was willing to take me in. I didn't believe it really. Even now, three hours from the town where I was going to be staying. I was sure when I got there that Mr. Oxenstrblahblah would laugh and send me back on a train to Denmark without so much as getting a chance to meet my little brother.

I curled up and faced the window watching the cold grey landscape pass-bye. "I don't want to be alone." I closed my eyes and held onto my ax.

"Hallå? Hej pojke, vakna." Someone said. I yawn and look sleepily up at the person before yawning and curling away from them. "Oi, vakna upp, det här är din hållplats." The person said shaking my shoulder. I grumble and hit him with my ax and curl up closer to the corner, "Ha ha, väldigt rolig unge, nu få upp! Det här är din tågstopp, jag har tolv fler tåg stannar till Stockholm!" The man said. I glared at him, having only known a few words that he had said.

"Jeg kender kun lidt svensk"(I only know a little Swedish) I muttered looking at him. The man looked slightly confused and pointed at my ticket.

"Dit... stop er... denne ene."(Your... stop is... this one.) he said in Danish.

I nodded and grabbed my bag (now one medium bag), "Tack"(Thanks) I said (one of the few swedish words I knew). He nodded and began heading back up the train and I headed out onto the station.

I looked around. The station was nearly empty, but as this was a sleepy looking town it was no surprise. The only one there was a kind looking man with a small sign that said 'Mathias' on it in sloppy little kid handwriting and little suns and smiley faces and rainbows on it (along with some swords). The man smiled at me and walked over. "You're Mathias right? I'm Fredrik Oxenstierna, your new guardian."

I nodded, "You speak Danish?" Surprised by this man. He reminded me of a rabbit, a really large rabbit, he just seemed so nice with his twinkling blue eyes and sloppy looking grey hair

He laughed, "Yes I do, my ex-wife, your Mother, was always frustrated by Swedish. She thought that Danish and German were enough languges for her to know."

I nodded again, "Does my little bother speak Danish?" I ask.

The kind looking man shook his head, "No he's just learned how to speak Swedish, but he was excided to have a brother, see?" Mr. Oxenstrblahblah said holding the sign closer to me so I could see it better, "He made this for you when I told him you were coming to live with us."

I look at the sign, "You really want me to come live with you and my little brother."

He looked at me slightly confused, "Well, of course, but if you don't want to-"

"No I want to live with you and my baby brother!" I shouted, tugging the sign out of his hands and holding it to my chest with my battle ax.

He smiled, chuckled, and then grabbed my bag before holding out his other hand to me, "Well we should go home and see Berwald then?"

I look up at this kind man, everything that I had thought would happen wasn't happening. I smile and (carefully as to not hurt the sign or my battle ax) take his hand.

I walked (skipped) with Fredrik (he asked me to call him that) all the way back to his apartment. He told me about my brother, who I learned was four, shy and liked vikings (and I'd have to share a room with him, but that was alright because I'd never had a room anyway), and I told him about me, I told him I was seven and I liked to slay dragons with my mighty battle ax. We didn't talk about Mama or Papa and he didn't give me those sad looks that adults had been giving me since the Politi found me alone in Papa's house.

Soon we came up to a small rickity looking stone building, "We live on the second floor." Fredrik said looking slightly embarrassed.

"My little brother is in there?" I ask excidedly, this building was so nice, much better than the house that me and Papa had lived in, the roof didn't have any holes in it from the look of it.

Fredrik laughs, it was a nice laugh, I liked it, "Yes Berwald is in there." Suddenly the tall man swooped down and picked me up. I giggled kind of happy to be off my feet because they hurt(it was a far walk but Fredrik didn't have a car). "Want to see him?"

I nodded and he walked into the building and up the narrow stairs up to the second floor. A moment later he put my bag down and pulled out a key from pocket and put it in the door. "Berwald, vi är hemma!" He shouted unlocking the door and opening the door.

I squirm out of his arm and hop down to the ground rushing into the apartment and come face to face with a serious looking baby with glaring blue eyes and blond hair sticking out of a viking helmet. We stare at each other for a second when Fredrik walked in, "Mathias dette er Berwald, Berwald detta är Mathias." Fredrik said switching from Danish to Swedish while introducing us to each other.

"H-hej." I said in Swedish to the little boy.

"Hej," Berwald replyed, "Du kommer att vara min bror nu rätt?"

I crinkled my eyebrows before looking up at Fredrik, he smiled and put a hand on my shoulder, "He asked if you're going to be his brother."

I look at him and nod, "Ja." I muttered, a little confused by his serious face.

His lips twitched up slightly and he grabbed my hand and pulled me over to a table with covered in crayons and pencils. He babbled a bit in Swedish and pushed a piece of paper over to me.

"You two behave I'm going to go and put Mathias' bag into your room." Berwald looked up at his dad for a second before figuring out what he meant and just went back to coloring, and, every few seconds pushing a new color over to me. I looked over Berwald's little shoulder and saw that he was drawing a brightly colored sword. Smiling I picked up a grey crayon and began to draw my battle ax.

My new little brother was quiet. But that was alright, I could be loud enough for both of us. And... Well for Berwald I was going to be the best big brother I could be.

Let me know what you think. Thank you for reading, I might do a longer sequel to this so... Yeah... PLEASE REVEIW SO I KNOW IF PEOPLE ACTUALLY LIKE THIS