I was awoken the next
morning by the blinding sun, shining right through my blinds. I
squinted and glanced at my alarm clock which read 7:53. I
groaned and flipped back over, pulling the covers over my head.
I tried to fall back asleep, considering I wanted rest on my
day off, but of course nothing would cooperate with me. I
moaned and kicked the sheets off my bed. I lazily flipped one
leg over the bed at a time, and as soon as both feet hit my
floor, I heard a loud crash downstairs. I sprinted out the
door, and bolted down the staircase. The crash seemed to have
come from the kitchen, so when I appeared there, I saw my
mother kneeling down on the floor, cleaning up a shattered
glass bowl.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, and approached her,
bending down besides her.
She looked at me with big sorry eyes, and apologized.
"Oh sweety. I'm so sorry I woke you. Clumsy old me.
I'm exhausted so I'm just making a mess of
everything."
I studied her and noticed she had bags under her eyes, and her
usually glossy brown hair was greying and was pulled back in to
a messy bun.
I waved my hand and grabbed the sweeper from her, and swept up
the little pieces of glass.
"It's ok mom. Go back to bed and get some rest. You
need it."
She looked at me hesitantly, but followed orders and got up,
advancing towards her room. I watched as she disappeared in to
the hallway. I heard the bedroom door close gently, and I
finsihed cleaning, dumping the shards into the trash. My father
had died when I was about 11, so 5 years ago, and my mother
handled it in a way that made me worry. She didn't cry or
show she was upset, but instead she took on the role of trying
to be super mom. She worked 2 jobs, and earned enough money so
we have food to eat, and a roof above our heads. We lived in a
nice house, in a nice town, and I wasn't complaining, but
sometimes it was sad. She never gets mad at me, and even when I
get frustrated or yell at her occasionally like a normal
teenager, she blames herself and apologizes. She never wants to
talk about my father, and she acts as if he never died. She
pretends to be happy, but if you really look in her eyes, you
see a tired, worn out, heartbroken woman.
I progressed over to the frigde, and was going to make
breakfast, but realized we were running low on
things.
I mumbled a cuss under my breath, and slowly shuffled up to my
room. I threw my long, straight brown hair up into a ponytail,
and brushed my teeth. I slipped on a pair of ripped shorts, and
a boston red sox t-shirt. I checked in the mirror, looking
straight into my own hazel eyes. I shrugged and slid a pair of
flip flops on, and headed out the door. I grabbed my wallet,
and wrote a quick grocery list. I quietly opened the front
door, and slipped out, being careful not to wake my
mother.
*sorry it's been
really busy with school! i'll try to post as much as i can
for you guys! fave and/or comment if you want characters! btw,
this chapter kinda sucks and isn't well written so next
chapter will be better, but im like really mad at something
right now, and i don't write well when i'm
upset...sorry :(
fave/comment/follow :)
Amanda721 · 1 decade ago
0
reply
I wanna see charecters :D