life is a bitch or how death tore us apart and pulled us together

the dawning of problems

Hayley's point of view

The next morning I woke up to the smell of fresh bread and butter croissants.

Rubbing my eyes I walked down the stairs and found my mother standing next to the laid citchen table, making coffee.

" Here, darling. ", she said and handed me a cup.

I inhaled the smell of the warm, fresh coffee and started to smile.

" Thank you, mom. "

She smiled back.

Sundays were always strange. Either my mother was in the clinic and we would not see her the whole weekend or she was home, trying desperately to make the day as nice as possible.

It was crazy. Within only a year the four of us had worked out a life without our mother in it. She was a much appreciated visitor, like grandma when she was still able to drive that far, but she wasn't our mother, the woman who the whole house depended on, anymore.

And I knew she knew that. We all felt it.

Maybe that was one more reason for Ian to barely say hi to her and leave the house grabbing the sandwich I had made for him knowing he would like to leave early.

After breakfast I went up into my room and sat down at my desk to do my work. It was a difficult text about the history of the canalisation of New York.

Don't ask me why people would like to read about that in their holidays.

Fact is only that I had to do it and that it took me four hours to translate the almost unreadable scribbling on the three printer papers to a nice, polite and informative Dutch.

As if Dutch were interested in the history of the canalisation of this stinky city!

When I finally finished the translation I went into the kitchen to drink something.

I found my mother sitting on the couch, playing with Annie's hair while the twins played with their plastic animal toys.

" Would you mind me going jogging now? I haven't done it for felt ages and it seems like their is nothing left to do. I'll be back to make dinner. ", I said and she smiled sadly.

" Of course, my daughter. Just go. I will do it. "

I could see that she was upset at how our relationship had turned out and how I was taking over more and more of what she had always done.

I shrugged. I never asked to do so, I just did it because otherwise there would have been nobody to actually clean the house, do the wash up, the laundry and everything else.

I changed into my sports clothing and put on my shoes.

Taking my phone and the headphones from the nightstand, I went out of my room, down the stairs and out on the street.

Although I hadn't done sports anymore since we moved here two and a half weeks ago, my condition was good.

My feet made their way on the ground without my head thinking about it.

It was like this fast rush was my heartbeat. I wanted to never stop.

I can't remember the last time I had been running for two hours constantly, but on that Sunday I did.

It made my head clear and my thoughts easier to understand.

I had to do at least something for myself besides caring for my family.

Refreshed and in a nice way exhausted I came home, showered quickly and changed into more comfortable clothes.

I was in such a good mood that I was humming tunelessly while I went down stairs.

Well, I had been in a good mood. Until I saw my brother.

He was completely covered in mud and his hair and cloth hang down his small body wet and dirty.

" What the hell happened to you!", I screamed.

He sighed and shrugged. " We played soccer, when the rain caught us. Running home I fell into a mud puddle. Sorry I'm making everything dirty here. "

Shaking my head I ran up the stairs again, grabbed two big towels and headed back to Ian.

" I'm not angry about the mud, I'm worried about you catching your death standing here complete wet and chilly in this fucking cold floor. ", I said tossing the towels at him.

" You and Miss shower are having a date. Now. I would not make her wait. "

We both smiled at the words our father used so often to get us into the showers. As we grew older the mentioning of Miss or Mister Shower always ended in a loud discussion about how a shower can be both genders, a Lady and a Gentlemen.

" You're right. It would be unpolite to make her wait. "

With a light bow he walked past me and stumbled up the stairs.

I turned around to see a puddle of mud where my brother had stood and shaking my head I got up to clean the floor.

This day mom cooked for us. It was a pie kind of thing with potatoes, salad and meat.

Mom pointed at the little piece of the pie that looked different.

"Vegetarian. ", she said and I smiled.

It had taken me some time to convince her that I was healthy, even if I did not eat meat at all and that it was my right to eat whatever I wanted to.

Ian laughed brightly and sneezed.

I rolled my eyes and we continued the dinner in peapeace and quite.

Of course I realized Ian rubbing his nose a few times and trying to hold back a sneeze, but I said nothing.

Later that day when he went to bed he would find a bottle of cold medicine on his nightstand and a package of tissues next to it and he would smile.

We had figured out our way how to deal with things like this.

Ian was no winer, none of us was. He hated being sick and would never admit it in front of his siblings or mom.

So I would just ignore every sign and help him quitly, without making much drama about it.

He did the same for me whenever I had problems. Without much words he would appear from behind and do the shopping or the washing up when I was to busy taking care of the little monsters.

But although Ian laughed with us and did nothing strange, I had a bad feeling in my stomach going to bed.

I could feel the problems building up behind me, only a few inches away.