"Taramina!"
I heard my mother call from the kitchen, her voice damaged from the amounts of cigarettes she's smoked over the years.
"What?"
I yelled back.
"Go get your brother. Foods ready."
She said as i mindlessly watched the tv in front of me, a random show that was on when I woke up. Something about, family drama, sex, and drugs. Just like everything you see on tv.
"Yes mamma."
I mumbled as I stood up from the couch, a small squeak as my weight shifted from the dusty yellow cushion.
I paid no mind to the squeak as turned to the small hallway, the hallway where all the rooms are located. The hallway with many memories from the past 20 years my mother has lived here.
I walked down the dimly lit hallway as I stopped in front of my brothers dark wooden door. A small engraving in the wood that has been there for the past 6 years catching my attention before I knocked, it was a small carving that me and my papa attached into the door before he left. I don't know why we haven't covered it up.
"Hey asshole, ma says foods ready."
I said with a morning rasp in my voice as my knuckles hit the wood, knocking on the door as I stared at it.
"fuck off!"
My brother yelled over the noises of what ever video game he was playing from in his room. Probably something like fortnight or cod.
I sighed as I turned to leave the hallway before I froze as the door of my brothers room creaked open.
"Hey."
He grumbled as he pushed past me, his dark hair messy and unbrushed just like mine.
"Good morning to you too."
I mumbled as I walked slowly behind him, the cold air from the rusty metal vents on the floor chilling my legs as it blowed up my shorts.
As we walked back down the hallway the light from the dirty windows brightened up to atmosphere a bit as we turned into the small living room. The living room where I grew up. The living room where me, mamma, and papa would play board games on the weekends when papa came home from work. The living room where we would host small family parties on the holidays. the living room where I was told my mamma was pregnant with my brother. The living room where I was told my papa left and wasn't coming back.
"Good morning, Mich."
Mamma said from the kitchen as she placed a toast on a paper plate. The same show playing in the tv as before I left and got my brother.
"Morning."
He said as he flopped onto the dusty yellow couch. I still stood in the doorway of the hallway as I took in the sight of the living room. I had seen it for the whole 16 years of my life, but it's changed. It just seems so, dead.
I slowly walked back over to the couch after I was done staring at the small trinkets around the room. As I sat down on the small couch, mamma came into the living room with three paper plates in her hand.
"What did you make?"
Mich asked as mamma placed the paper plates on the small wooden coffee table in front of us, an egg, some bacon, and a plain piece of toast on each plate.
"Doesn't matter, you're gonna eat it."
Mamma said as she sat down on the dusty yellow cushion between me and my brother. Her voice raspy not only from waking up but also from the cigarettes she smoked.
I carefully picked up the plate as not to drop it, setting the plate on my lap as I looked to mamma.
"Thank you."
I sighed as I tiredly grabbed the fork on the plate, poking the runny scrambled eggs that sat coldly on the paper plate. Reminds of how papa made his eggs. Papa did most of the cooking when he was home. He was a good cook.
I watched my brother pick up his plate as his eyes never left the tv. I feel like his eyes are always on some sort of screen these days.
I leaned back into the back of the couch as I slowly ate the eggs. I watched the tv as did the rest of the people in the room.
Mamma sighed as she picked up her plate and began to eat.
Another silent morning. No talking. No laughs. Just like it has been for the past 2 years.
