Drabble Eleven : Family Ties

Besides Mandy, I have four other siblings. One is dead. So really, more like three. Two brothers and third one that my dad gave up to the boy's mother before any of the rest of us came along. I've never met him. Terry says the boy's name was David. He'd been almost thirty now. The dead one died during birth. Iggy, who right now is serving ten years in jail over assaulting his fiancee with a loaded gun. Among other things. Which include, but are not limited to: armed robbery, public indecency, assaulting an officer, and forging documents for an illegal immigrant whom Iggy was cheating on Abby with. And then there is Colin. I only just met him when I moved in with Sandra. Colin's almost thirty. He lives here with Sandra, Mandy, and myself. But only about one day out of an entire week. For the rest of it, he lives with a blonde bimbo he's fucking. Out of my siblings, Mandy and I are the only two who share the same mother.

I like Iggy just fine. He's two years older than me and lived with me, Terry, and Mandy for two years before he almost killed Abby and got shipped off. Colin, I can't stand. He reminds me so much of our father that it's frightening. It's rare that I'm intimidated, but Colin does the trick. I tend to withdraw into myself and just go along with him a lot of the times. Which isn't often because thankfully he's hardly around. Today though, he's around plenty.

Snorting up some coke from his pinky finger, my brother tips his head back and sighs, content. Arms stretched out behind him, eyes closed to the ceiling. "Sandra home?" he asks, tired sounding.

I shove the last of my sandwich into my mouth from in front of the television. While chewing I tell him she's down at the welfare office. "Probably clawing her arms off, tweaking," I say, shaking the crumbs off my shirt.

"No doubt," Colin chuckles. "You got an idea where her damn bag's at?" he asks me, still relaxing. "Bitch went and stashed it."

First off, it's not his bag to dig around in. Second off, every time Colin swipes something off of Sandra, she assumes it was me and sets off.

Sandra didn't hide her black bag from my brother; I did.

I shake my head and sit on top of the box television. Sandra's sold most of her other seating for drugs. "What are you here on a Tuesday for?" I ask him, chewing my lip out of a nervous habit. One of those where I'm plenty aware I'm doing it.

Colin's eyes pierce through me now. He sits up straight and cups his hands. Intense, he says, "What are you doing today?"

If I say I'm busy, he'll just get crazy If i say nothing, he's going to ask me for fuck knows what favor. I can't afford to get involved in anything serious. Exhaling, I stare back and say nothing until he spits it out.

"I need your help with a pest problem," Colin eventually says, cracking his tatted up knuckles. The same letters as my own. His hello gift to me. Now I'm starting to wish they weren't on my hands. When all I do is hum at him, face guarded, Colin tells me I'll need a gun. Says, "Meet me at Lori's 'round eight tonight. We'll go over it." And he stands up and appears to shit out a pistol. Just nods and leaves. Standing in the opened door, he looks back at me and says, "You see that bag, put it back under the couch where I can find it."

Then Colin's gone. And now it's just me and the pistol and staring contest.