Split

12

It was around midnight when I decided to leave my room. As I attempted to walk into the dark, I tripped over something, nearly smashing my face into a chair. Crawling now, I moved my way to the wall and turned on the lights, revealing the culprit to my near concussion; a basket of clothes. Mother probably put them there, in hope I would see them in the morning. I jogged down the flight of stairs. I past dad, as he snored in bed. I turned off his bedroom light before advancing to the next flight. I could hear mother’s voice from the bottom, so I walked down instead.

                When she’s home, I often find her downstairs alone, doing work, or on the phone with a potential client. I honestly don’t know what she does. Figured if she didn’t tell me, it wasn’t in my place to ask. Whatever she does though, it makes her travel a lot. All over the globe, making her learn different languages along the way.

                I gave a small wave to her as I walked by. She put her hand over the receiver, “Did you the clothes I put at your door?” she whispered over to me. I rubbed my hand on my forehead and nodded. She worded out the word “Sorry” to me, before returning to her phone call.

                I went into the kitchen, and opened the door to the fridge. I grabbed a bag of cheese and placed it onto my forehead. The cool feeling took the pain away almost instantly, but the headache remained. I walked over to the back door, and looked through the blinds. The moon was full and the tree branches swayed. Blowing about petals from little blossoms, the wind made the backyard look more like a painting.

                I returned the cheese to its rightful place in the fridge, and began to head back to my room. Attempting not to make too much noise, I trotted up the stairs, two at a time on my toes. I kicked in the basket of clothes, and slowly shut the door. After ironing my uniform, and packing them into my book bag, I plopped onto my bed. I yawned as I watched the stars above me, and I continued to watch them, until I was no longer awake.

                I woke up to a sticky note placed on my, now bruised, forehead. I removed it and read it carefully.

                “David,

                My boss called, and requested that I start the trip early. I’m sorry that your father and I couldn’t have stayed longer, especially after all that you have been forced to encounter.

                I remembered your comment on not having school, so I went ahead and made breakfast for you. Made sure to make your favorite, pancakes and chocolate!

                Remember to call more often. I know you’re not a child anymore, but I do enjoy hearing your voice while I’m on these trips.

- Mom”

                I’m beginning to understand why her boss wants her around so much. Anyone who could fit that much on to a single sticky note, should be nominated for a first class job.

                I crumbled up the paper and tossed it. I looked out the window as I stretched, quickly interrupted with the throbbing of my forehead. Supporting the pain with a cold hand, I moved out of the bed. I looked over to my digital clock for the time. 7:48. I have about an hour before I have to be at The Blast.

                I grabbed my uniform and worked my way down the steps, avoiding any more trip-on able baskets, and to the bathroom. I turned on the shower water and flicked on the lights. My enormous black and blue forehead got my attention. Almost in a full blown head butt, I pulled myself closer to the mirror. Oh my blood… it was worse than I expected.

                I showered quickly, then ran downstairs for the breakfast that was left for me. Opening the oven, I pulled out a plate, wrapped in aluminum foil. The scent of melted chocolate filled my nose as I unwrapped. With eggs and bacon on the side, my mouth watered. I loved my mom’s cooking, and I was overly fond of her breakfasts.

                I pushed my hair back as I sat at the table. I shivered as the water dripped down my spine, but that didn’t stop me from stuffing my mouth with the amazing taste of pancakes. Heaven is a place, I know, because I was in it. 

My heavenly crusade was over with the sound of my alarm going off on my iPhone. Reminding me that work was a place as well, and a place I needed to be. I wrapped the leftover food back into the foil, and ran upstairs.

                I plugged in the blow dryer and began to style my hair. I needed my bangs to cover the mess I’m forced to call my forehead, in a way that it covers it, but doesn’t look like I have anything to hide. The last thing I need to do, is gross out anyone when they are eating, or taunt James into doing something. Seeing if he could get an irritation from it.

                Happy with my look, I ran upstairs and grabbed my phone and bag. 8:45 on the clock. I grabbed my uniform vest and ran down the stairs to the kitchen. Stuffing a piece of bacon into my mouth, I grabbed hold of the plate, and carefully grabbed an apple from the fridge.

                I moved my way throughout the house, turning off lights as I went, and opened the door to the garage. I threw everything into the back seat, with exception of the apple and plate, and sat in front of the wheel. Putting the key into the incision, another sticky note on the windshield caught my attention.

                I ripped off the note and read it. A smile covered my face as I looked at how much gas I had. The dial brimming at the full line, I thanked my parents silently. Not only did my mother make me breakfast, but she had my father fill my gas too. With the exception of the black and blue forehead catastrophe, today was beginning to be a good day.