Not a Stranger

“Castiel! Are you ready?”

I grimaced briefly at my mother’s words, glancing at myself one last time in my mirror. Damn, I look good. Yes, I think I have the right to say that about myself. Who wouldn’t? 14 and already I’m starting to fill out. Broad-ish shoulders, sandy hair, bright blue eyes and a smile that can charm any woman – high school is going to be fun to start in the Fall.

“Castiel! Do not ignore your mother, boy!”

I grimaced a little more at my father’s voice. Let’s just say that he and I don’t always see eye to eye. About anything.

“Coming!” I called back.

After one last glance, I grabbed my cellphone and slid it in the pocket of my suit jacket, before heading downstairs. Only my father was standing in the front foyer. Huh. I should’ve guessed my mother wasn’t even ready herself.

“Looking at yourself in the mirror again?” my father asked, clearly unimpressed.

I fought to keep the blush from my face.

“I thought you’d want me to look appealing for the Nielsons,” I said simply.

“Vanity is not becoming, Castiel. Especially when it is not deserved,” my father sneered.

Clenching my teeth, I looked away. I know I look good, even if I do look more like my Uncle (my father’s brother) than my father. He doesn’t have to be a dick about it.

“You could’ve worn a more suitable colour shirt, Castiel. This simply does not suit your skin tone,” my mother frowned, finally joining us.

Ah, my ever-critiquing mother, never satisfied with how I look at any point. Lovely.

“I like it,” I muttered.

“Don’t mutter, boy. Have some respect,” my father said coldly.

Respect? Yeah, right. But I just clenched my teeth and kept my chin up in defiance.

“Yes, Father,” I said as calmly as possible.

“Good. Now, let’s go and dine, hmm?” my father prompted.

A smirk spread across my lips when I thought of our destination. Monica, the air-brained jailbait who couldn’t resist me, and Georgia, the pathetic black sheep of the family. If that girl had a backbone, she might actually be quite fun to taunt – but she doesn’t, so my dislike of her only grows. A deplorable waste of a girl. She’ll be eaten alive in high school, and I can’t wait to watch her fall. Like Father has always said, never show weakness or be destroyed by the strong. At least I can respect that from him. Georgia deserved everything she gets for not lavishing in what our parents provide.

Let the fun start.

*

2 weeks had passed since that stupid dinner at the Nielson’s home. Georgia Nielson – what a feeble excuse for a human being. Not that anyone’s seen or heard about her since summer started. It’s almost like she’s vanished from our small town of Northbrook, Illinois. Not that I care. At least it means a good few months without seeing her whining face.

Since it’s summer, I didn’t have to technically leave the house, so I’ve pretty much stayed indoors in my gaming room, switching between my Xbox and Playstation 3 at my leisure. At least Father’s money can buy some useful things. I’ve only seen my parents at mealtimes, and it’s a mutual feeling of contentment at this agreement. I don’t have to hear their criticisms, and they don’t have to pretend like they give a shit about me. I know how this family works – looks and money above love. And that’s all there is to it, so why fight it?

Tonight my parents are out at some charity ball, leaving me alone after a brief don’t break anything or do something stupid. When I say alone, I mean that our cooks and maids were here too, but still. None of them talk to me other than to ask if I need anything, so it’s fine by me. I don’t need them. I don’t need anyone. I wouldn’t care if they never came back.

At about 11pm, I heard the doorbell ring at the front door. Someone else can answer that. It’s not my job.

Then it rang again, and I realised that the maids would’ve gone home by now, and cursed. Fine, I’ll get it. Whoever the fuck it is has some nerve to be here at this time in the evening. With a yawn I stumbled downstairs and opened the door. Two police officers stood there. What the fuck?

“Can I help you?” I asked, confused.

“Castiel Walker?” the older man asked.

“Uh, yeah? Did I do something wrong?” I frowned.

“No, son. Um, perhaps we should come in,” the other man suggested.

The serious looks on their faces convinced me. Did a member of Father’s family get in trouble again? Did someone find out about Mother’s off-shore accounts? I shut the door behind them and gestures for them to follow me into the formal lounge area. I haven’t had conduct drilled into me for no reason.

“So…what’s up?” I asked, sitting down, while they sat opposite me.

“We have some bad news. Your parents have been in an accident,”

My breath hitched in my throat. W-What?

“An…accident?” I asked.

“They were driving back from their charity ball when an 18 wheeler swerved to avoid another car that braked suddenly. They were hit head on,”

I wouldn’t care if they never came back. No. No!

“Are they…”

I couldn’t complete the question.

“Your father died on impact. Your mother stayed alive long enough for the paramedics to catch your name and the name Lewis. Does that mean anything to you?”

“That’s my Uncle. My Father’s brother. I…they’re gone?” I managed to choke.

This can’t be happening. This has to be a dream. I’ll wake up and everything will be back to its bitter normality. My parents…are dead?

“I’m sorry, Castiel. Is there anyone we can call to come over? A friend? A neighbour?”

No friends I want near me for this. No neighbours because we all despise each other. No family other than my Uncle, and that’s pushing it. I’m alone.

“No,” I mumbled.

“Perhaps your Uncle then?”

My Uncle. Uncle Lewis, who we haven’t seen since I was 2 years old thanks to him marrying ‘lower than his status after a mistake pregnancy’, as my father put it. Fuck. Who says he’ll even want to come? Why would anyone bother with me?

“Castiel, you’ll need someone here,”

I clenched my teeth, but nodded.

“My mother’s phone book is by the telephone next to the front door. His name should be there, Lewis Walker. And call the maid Shelby. Her name and number will be at the back,” I said softly.

“Of course. You won’t be alone through this, Castiel. We promise,”

How can they promise such a thing, when alone is all I’ve ever been?