Everyone knows that getting a new stepmother or father is hard, especially when you don't get along. But what about your new parent's side? What do THEY think?
The blaring rock music coming from the over sized speakers sent rattling vibrations through my body. I had never liked Flypaper or Paradex - whatever band this was moment, I wished upon them great misfortune. I endured the torture for the acceptance of my new stepdaughter.
She loathed me, I could tell. I was foreign, placed in a position of importance. Where a warm mother had once been, there was now an evil stepmother. I couldn't say that I enjoyed her company much either. Too dark, too brooding, too distrusting of anything not like her grim outlook.
But for the sake of a new family, the sake of a perfect family I had to please her. This party a disguise for a ploy to show her I "cared" about her, when I could care less. Pushing through the bodies cloaked in black and blue I wondered how that Gothic girl could have such a vast amount of friends.
I placed another stack of black, plastic plates on a snack table adorned with bats, a soft clicking feeling rushing under my fingertips. I tried to race out of the basement, but a teary-eyed stepdaughter blocked my path to freedom.
I couldn't say in here much longer. I couldn't stand her and her friends.
She screamed, "Can we talk?", matching to the words of the lyrics so perfectly I thought she was singing. I gave a fake smile and patted her on the shoulder. I made anther mad dash and went through the door. Halfway up the stairs I hear it again. "Can we talk?" I turned slowly, inching around with care and stared down at my new stepdaughter.
I almost snarled a the black steaks in the blond hair she detested but her father wouldn't let her lose. The sterling silver rod through her eyebrow, the sparkly, violet eyeshadow, and the blunt, black lipstick. A plain skull t-shirt, straight from Hot Topic, and ripped fishnets to boot. A sharp contrast to my all-over flash of pink ensemble.
"S-sure, sweetie." I stammered, dutifully surprised. She grimaced for a moment and I came down the steps, my heels clacking on the wood.
"I have something to tell you." She admitted. "I can't keep the lid on the bottle any longer. I'm going to just let it fizz." I gazed at her, my arms crossed neat and tight.
"I guess it's kinda bad but I frankly don't mind anymore." My stepdaughter choked out, her voice cracking and her hands wringing together. "You're the first person I thought to come to. I know we had a rough beginning. But," She waved to the basement door. "you proved you can care."
I beamed, all working according to plan. I felt no pang of guilt, that would only come if my dream was destroyed. "I have to tell you my secret." She sobbed. Tears that had been locked in before, now sprang out and spread mascara down her cheeks.
"I...well, d-" My stepdaughter's words were strangled by an eruption of metallic music, screaming voices, and the sudden bang of a wooden door against a wall. Hands grabbed my stepdaughter's arm and pulled her into the dark recesses of a black lighted basement.
"It's your party!" Detached voices screeched and laughed and bellowed toghether.
"We'll figure it out, honey! Your secret's safe with me!" I called out, an evil grin plastered on my face.
The door slammed again, locking my stepdaughter in the jaws of a roaring beast.
I hadn't heard a word of my stepdaughter's secret.
As I walked up the steps, I giggled to myself. All the benefits of secret-sharing without all the commitment of actually knowing said secret.
I did a dance to a good song playing in my head. I sang to myself. "Here I come, perfect life."