Misdirection

Prologue (Part 2)

MARIBEL

"...So, the fresh market has a daily income of one hundred and twenty dollars. We know that there are seven days in a week. So, what would be the market's weekly income?"

I waited for a response, but Remmy was in his own headspace. His long, shiny black hair nearly encompassed all of his body. The little brat was sipping his cup of Kool-Aid and unintentionally dripping it all over his new white t-shirt and bedsheets. He stared onwards into space, his beady brown eyes focused on the wall behind me. The mind of a 9-year old little brother is something no one can prepare for.

Suddenly, he places his cup of juice on the nightstand next to his bed, and then turns to me as if he'd just had a sudden revelation.

"...Yep."

"...Yep? Yep to what?" I sit up straight, awaiting his answer. Genuinely curious if he finally had it all figured out.

"Yep... those are definitely words," he says in a matter-of-factly tone. "Also, can I get more sugar in this? This tastes like someone drank Kool Aid and then burped into a bottle of water."

"Ugh." I began to free my bushy brown hair from my scrunchie, as it was not helping me with the headache this little demon was giving me.

Having to take care of a younger sibling is one thing. But having to take care of a younger sibling while simultaneously having a full-time career feels like whoever is pulling the strings behind reality itself has a personal vendetta against you. It also didn't help that I had just gotten off work, and I was going to be working overtime the next day.

"That's strike three, Rem." I stood up and grabbed my white lab coat I had carelessly thrown on his bed. "Three questions. Out of three. You have a test tomorrow, and you are literally flunking your math class."

"...I says this to you," Remmy says to me in the worst possible impersonation of a mob boss. "You take care of the juice... and I take care of that little math 'problem' for ya. Bada-boom. Bada-bing."

"...No, Rem. It's getting late. And you'll be bouncing off the walls."

His eyes lit up in excitement. "I get rubber powers too? What a deal!"

I sighed. At this point, I was already fed up. There were several things I needed to do before I went to bed, and arguing with a hyperactive brother wasn't one of them.

"...I've got to go make dinner, Rem."

"But what about my Kool Ai-"

"There won't be any more Kool Aid if you fail." I walked out towards the door, nearly tripping on an action figure. "And clean your room. Now."

I gently closed the door behind me, leaving him in his room with his own wild thoughts. I could hear his fake crying clear as day behind the door. The crummy apartment walls did nothing to hide his whining.

I didn't feel like doing anything tonight. I needed to escape into my own space, just for a moment.

. . .

I heated up some lasagna in the microwave for Remmy, and then proceeded to take a long, soothing shower. I quickly changed into my comfort clothes; a purple long-sleeved shirt and tan shorts.

The best part of my day was when it ended and I could finally go to my room. My beautiful, glorious room.

The creme colored bed accented the warm brown carpeting. My closet was filled with neatly pressed blazers and lab coats, ready for the next day's wearing. The tan walls were coated with my various certifications and medals, framed and hung up with pride. I even had a few of Remmy's trophies in my room too, since he was too rambunctious to be trusted with them. His junior baseball team trophy had a large crack in it from when he played baseball with the neighborhood, and he used his prized trophy as a bat.