59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbDOAs2cLTe
The morning was an unwelcome guest.
With its sparkling rays and flashing lights pouring through the sheer fabric curtains of my old room .
The walls once white , now sport a brown tint , aged like the rot beneath them .
The morning was still an anomaly in my world of eternal rest arriving with it it's annoying entourage. The birds chirping disorderly, as if in a badly directed orchestra meant purely to torment my ears , their horrid sounds resounding into the start of the day .
Yet, some people find such chirping "peaceful".
I'm starting to think that maybe that should be considered an early symptom of deafness.
The inability to recognise noise as noise .
Either way , time waits for no one and I have to still awake for school.
And just as my foot touches the itchy carpet floor -
" Tom! Time for breakfast Son!" My father proceeds to shout from downstairs. As if the walls of this house weren't made of paper .
I'd only just woken up and decided to come to my senses , now I had my father pressuring me to get ready to eat with him.
Honestly, he had no reason to put my name and "son" in the same sentence. He however finds sadistic glee in rubbing it in our neighbours faces that they're son's six feet deep , whilst he's still six feet above .
A cruel joke that receives no laughter , a bad habit to start one's morning and yet such a perfect start for him , he says it as if on repeat never missing a day to remind the poor couple of their loss and his apparent lack of it .
And yet I wouldn't put it past him . Being cruel is his whole personality. His pride and ego stuck like second skin . Closer than his own family.
He'd drunkenly babble ,"A man can lose his family but his pride....that sticks with you closer than blood kid."
The only time he didn't call me son or Tom , but recognised my position in society as simply a kid , nothing more , nothing less.
I laughed at the irony of that sentence. It was probably intentional as he chuckled too that day . My dad whilst being born with a brute of a personality had the manners and vocabulary to size a nobleman , from his outward appearance to his voice .
Either way it was not a nice way to start an already bad day .
Swinging my second foot to the floor with not feet planted I quickly get the rest of my body to follow , finally standing upright .
"The stature every man should carry ." My father would comment .
I quickly bathe , washing myself with my father's expensive soap , the hot water pouring off my body slowly bring back it's red flush , bringing me out the morning stupor I was in , reminded of time by the onslaught of cold water spraying over my warm body , I know to hurry up .
From the loud footsteps I hear above , I can quickly identify the culprit that ruined my shower to be my father .
I get out , no longer in a good mood then again I never really was in the beginning but semantics .
I spray on some cheap deodorant my father bought from a nearby dollar store .
And honestly it didn't smell bad .
Was it out of this world strong ?
Yes .
Did it get the scent of cigarettes of my body ?
Yes .
So it got the job done ?
As intended.
" Chop . Chop . Sonny boy! " He bellows from below , the walls of the house vibrating from the force his voice held .
" Coming! " I scream back . I definitely should not be screaming this early into the morning but Jesus does my father get me mad !
Gosh !
Sometimes having a dad who's so attached that he needs you in his orbit for the morning 24/7 can be so stressful. Like he always wants to bond at the most random or inconvenient times .
Such as breakfast.
Where he probably made my mother cook a feast fit for a king then shoved her back into their room not even concerned if she eats or not .
Apparently, she's too much of an "Annoyance" to sit at my father's grand bust-up table and be graced with his presence .
The table which I'm pretty sure we stole from a garage sale that was to raise funds for someone's dead son's funeral.
I'm sure you know who .
Grabbing my hoodie , I quickly descend the stairs and to my amazement , sitting at the table is ......Uncle John and Mom ?
She must've somehow serenaded him into allowing her at the table because he seats her presence otherwise .
" Morning mom....I hope you woke up fine."
I say shyly as I pass her by , unused to greeting the otherwise absent person , only to later freeze as my father sends a glare my way .
That's when my idiot of an Uncle decides to crack a smirk , probably at the show to come .
In my house we had a rule .
Failure to comply to this rule was equivalent to committing an act of treason towards my father , which usually ends up with someone down . I'm to greet my father before his spouse , whom is my mother . Whether I greet Uncle John or my mother first isn't his issue but I know not to greet my mother before Uncle John .
He made his displeasure at that VERY know when I was younger .
" I see having your mother here was a bad idea ." He says calmly , smiling whilst he talks to me .
And suddenly I feel so small . As if I've gone back to the little boy who feared his father with every bone in his small body .
" N-n-no! It's - I'm sorry , I just forgot ." I stutter out trying to appease his silent anger .
Uncle John's smirk widens at my stutter . His little snickers small compared to the gaze my father has set on me .
I would've said something back but not whilst he's still looking at me .
" You don't do forgetting in my house . It was a simple rule dear . If you never did it then , Why do it now ? "
There he went putting words in my mouth. Imposing his authority on me .
I was just happy to see my Mom .
" Mary ."
" Yes , Jay ." My mother says in a sickening sweet voice .
" Go to your room . Now! " He says angrily. Making it clear he doesn't have time to play into her shenanigans nor is he in the mood to play her losing games .
She doesn't glance my way . Just calmly gets up like a dismissed servant at her master's call.
She passes me a heated glare once she reaches the door .
I sit down.
The guilt inside me festering like a badly infected wound , eating at my heart .
I want to get up and follow her , I want to apologise for causing her to go . It wasn't intentional. I'd just gotten happy at the prospect of speaking to her before going to school .
My shoulders hunch and my fingers twist upon my thigh . My plate left untouched .
" Well. Eat up ! " , " your a growing boy , plus I'm dropping you off at school today .
Which translates to we'll have a talk on the way to school .
" I'll talk to your mother about her behaviour after I drop you off ."
He says resuming to eat as if he just didn't do anything wrong .
" A rowdy one I tell you Jay ! Mom always did disapprove of you putting a ring on that wild cat ! " My uncle chuckles .
" She's my wife , John . And your sister-in-law also mother of my son , so.......play nice ." He said after a moment's worth of consideration.
Faking seriousness , but I can see the smile in his eyes at his words.
Maybe it's the reason my Uncle never bothers to put a filter on his big mouth , because my dad could care less .
He looks at me and smiles .
My heart sinks .
I know that smile .
He was riled up and ready to play bad mitten with my mother . He's playing partner sitting right across me .
They would wait for me to leave first .
It was my fault.
He knew that but the difference was -
I was his dear boy .
59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhqPWTFmvOL
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59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7oQSN5rFRi
59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwfHGxQo0gZ
59Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡan3Ufh8BOI
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