The laughter of the small, one-year-old boy filled the air. We were playing hide-n-seek. Every time, he hid in the same place where his older brother, Adam, my step brother, put him in the first round. It was behind the two-person couch in the living room of my father's house.
I was over at my father's for the weekend. He was on his third marriage. The short, chubby, dumb-blonde, woman was a typical step mother; a complete bitch! She ordered me around like a slave, and praised her oldest son, Adam, for being just as mean to me.
"Go heat me up some chicken fingers, NOW!" Adam ordered.
I looked over at my father, "I am not about to take orders from a seven-year-old!"
Paris, my step moter, walked into the room, "Yes you will, now go heat him up some chicken fingers," she said as she plopped onto the couch.
"Why don't you get off your lazy ass and do it yourself?" I yelled. I went and got Gabriel out from behind the couch, got his stroller out of the garage, and took him for a walk around town. "You're mother is the devil, Gabe," I said to my baby brother. "I will never have respect for her, ever!"
"Devil! Devil! Devil!" Gabriel repeated. Since he was one, and just learning how to talk, he was in that stage where babies repeat everything they hear. " God dangit!" he yelled.
"Gabriel!" I was so very surprised to hear him say something like that.
Shocked by my loud tone, he looked up at me with his big blue eyes as to say 'Did I do something wrong?' I stopped at a local park, and put Gabriel into a baby sing. I pushed him in it for a good half-an-hour, before I decided to go back to my dad's.
As I brought him inside, Gabriel ran up to his mother, "Mama! Mama! Mama!" he shouted, put Paris just ignored her one-year-old son, craving her attention. She was too busy talking on the phone then to pay any attention to her child. "Mama the devil!" he said. Paris dopped the phone onto the floor.
She grabbed him by his arm, jerk him towards her, and spanked his butt. He began to sob uncontrolably. "SHUT UP!!" she yelled at the baby. "Why won't you just shut the hell up?"
"Maybe because he is one!" I defended him.
"I don't care how old he is, he needs to stop this crying nonsense!"
As I got closer to Paris, I could tell that she had been drinking, so I picked Gabriel up, and brought him into my room. I locked the door and laid down on my bed with him. He fell asleep there laying next to me.
The sounds of his breathing and the feeling of his little heart beating inside of his chest made me realize how delicate life really is. Also, how much I should appreciate everyone and everything around me, because in just one blink of an eye, it could all be gone.