𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇.

fifteen.

𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐧. 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬
𝙽𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁 || 𝙱𝙰𝚃𝙾𝙽 𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙴, 𝙻𝙰.
-

        I walked into my house after school, my nostrils immediately being met with the smell of a home cooked meal. I couldn't place my finger on exactly what it was yet but the smell alone took me all the way back to my childhood.

Placing my bag down in front of the door I saw my mother dancing around the kitchen while cooking with the twins next to her, dancing as well.

If somebody saw this scene and didn't know our backstory then they would think we were the happiest family ever.

"Neno, you're home!" My mother breathed out, wiping some sweat off of her forehead and turning the music down a bit. "The foods almost done."

"What you make?" I slowly walked into the living room seeing Essence and Ant on the couch watching some movie.

It really looks like a happy family in here.

"Your favorites. Cornbread, roast beef, greens, mash potatoes. When you were a little boy.. ouu, you would love it." She smiled and started putting plates out on the table.

For the past years a home cooked meal was foreign to me. It was always noodles, plates from the lady down the street, or bologna sandwiches. Fast food joints occasionally if I had just recently gotten a good check.

It was like every memory I had of my mother were the bad ones. I couldn't remember her making us meals, or bonding with us, all I remember is me taking care of her.

"Essence, come help me set the table." My mother called for her and she immediately got up, fixing the table.

This shit is weird.

"Shit weird ain't it?" Ant asked me as I sat next to him on the couch, taking Essy's spot while she fixed the table.

"Hella weird."

"Happy as fuck I got practice tonight. I can't stay here for this weird shit. She might fuck around even make something for thanksgiving."

"We ain't had a real thanksgiving in years, cuh. I remember last year Essy got some food from down the street but that shit was cold as hell." Ant laughed.

"Then the year before that I tried to cook and shit. I will never do that shit again."

After a while of talking shit with Ant the food was ready and our mother called us to the table. I immediately starting eating being that I hadn't ate all day and I had practice in less than two hours.

"Relax, Emanuel. The food ain't going nowhere." My mother side eyed me.

Chill mf cause we not that cool yet.

"Anyways, how has everybody been? Anthony, are you playing any sports? You look exactly how Neno did when he were your age. Athletic.."

"I do track. I wanted to do cross country but—"

"Track! I did track when I was younger, didn't I tell you?" My mother spoke excitedly. "I made it to the National championship and everything, then you know life happened. But it's good to see you continuing that track legacy."