I glance at my stepmother as she comes home through the door, drunk and wasted, from the bar. My dad is in the middle of teaching me some math lesson. He looks up at her, but then continues on as if though nothing happened. This is pretty much my everyday life. My birth mother had died 4 years ago, when I was 12. It was devastating. She got killed in a car crash, where the driver of the other car had attempted suicide. What an idiot. Doesn't he know that he could kill someone else?
My stepmother orders me to go get her birth control pills. Yep, that's right. Her birth control pills. You know, I would think normal moms and stepmoms would ask for a favor or chore, not birth control pills. Anyways, I get up and get her pills from the cabinet.
I still wonder to this day why my dad had married a woman who is nasty, dirty, unmother-like, usually drunk, and gets money for giving lap dances. Okay, I'll say the word that means all the ones I described right there. She. Is. A. Bitch.