I often start my day by looking blankly at the ceiling. What usually occurs is that I hardly sleep, only catching up on rest when I'm sick and couldn't get out of bed. I find myself dwelling on the past to the extent that it leaves no room for other thoughts. I would suddenly notice a tear running down my cheek, followed by the sound of my own sobbing. Mornings would be filled with my tears but sleep would continue to escape me. Nothing seems to help. The sleep cycle follows the same pattern as every other night and day. The light filtering in through the window sometimes helps me to get up. Despite the morning sickness I still attempt daily to find the will to eat something. They say breakfast is what we all need to start the day. I went straight to the kitchen when I noticed Dad asleep at the table, still clutching the remote.
The table is cluttered with various items, including several empty beer cans next to him. There are papers scattered all over, they appear to be our bills and job applications since he's been searching for work. The tools he uses are dispersed around him and every bit of clutter is familiar to me. He has some drinking problem. He would head out almost daily without missing a day and come back looking like this. It’s somewhat of a relief when he comes home without visible injuries or any blood around him. “The Local Tap” is located right outside the village where he spends most of his time and that would mean after he drinks, he always returns home on foot. Sharing a home with a father who doesn’t speak to you and can’t look you in the eyes is tough. Things changed completely after the two weeks that followed Mom’s passing, he started leaving home and seemed incapable of uttering a word to anyone. I can relate to his situation because I endure the same daily struggles myself, but it's still draining to see the constant heaviness of his misery in this house every day like I'm not even here. I don't know when or how to approach him and whether I should do it at all.
I made my way to the table cautiously to avoid disturbing him. Just as I was reaching for the bottle beside him, I noticed a photo of Mom tucked away among some papers. I started to get that familiar unsteady feeling that comes right before I cry. Out of the two of us he likes to keep her belongings and scatter them almost everywhere. One of his habits that bothers me most, aside from his current drunken state. Her items ought to be consolidated in one area, not the other way around. Every time I try to organize it things just get messier in the days afterward.
I recognized that as a signal that I needed to go for a walk to clear my head. I came to a stop in front of the bookstore only to realize it was not open on a Sunday anymore. I lost the argument after a lengthy debate with Nathan about the pointlessness of closing on Sundays since it's no different from other days. Sundays don’t quite feel like a restful day to me. I turned around and unexpectedly saw a man with a backpack and camera standing right in front of me. “I thought they open at Sundays?” With no one else around it's obvious he's talking to me. I couldn't find the words as an unexpected tear threatened to escape, creating an awkward silence.
“Sam.” He held out his hands patiently waiting for me to accept. Realizing I wasn’t going to make a move he pulled back his hands, face flushed with embarrassment. It frustrates me when I’m close to doing something but back out because I don’t know how to handle even a normal situation. All I can say right now is that the day isn’t over yet and I’m already ready to give up. “Look, I get how annoying it is that the village’s only bookstore is closed on Sundays when I have to find this book that I—”
“I don't really give a shit about it.” I wasn’t surprised by my words, though I think I could have expressed them differently. He probably didn't see that coming. I walked past him not knowing exactly where I was heading. I can feel my stomach growling as I realize I haven’t eaten anything yet and I’m already on the move. I also don’t expect any food at home since Dad was dismissed from his job as a mechanic.
I took a deep breath when I spotted a bench in the corner and sat down, trying to calm myself from breaking down again. I could prolong my walk since there's not much going on, but it might not be the best choice either. There was an occasion when I fell asleep near a trashcan and people mistook me for being homeless. I noticed a person sat next to me but didn't pay much attention, since it's usually an older person resting after a brief walk advised by their physician. “Are you okay?”
That didn’t really sound like it was from an older individual. It would be really awkward to respond to something like that when the person isn’t even asking you. I glanced at the person next to me in silence and realized it was the same guy I had seen at the bookstore before. I had a look of total confusion on my face. “I just wanted to make sure you're okay, you didn't seem fin—”
I wish this day would be over already. “Did you actually just follow me?” This guy might have taken photos of everything with his camera and now he thinks following people is a good idea next.
“My house is right around the corner.” He said while gesturing in a certain direction. I’m not really a fan of people inserting themselves into complicated situations like this.
“Besides, you look like you could talk to someone.” I chose to ignore him and kept my attention on other people’s activities to make him go away. I clearly don’t look like I require a chat. There's no way he could know because I completely shut him out just a short while ago. Even after a couple of minutes, he doesn’t look like he’s planning to leave from where I’m sitting. He strikes me as a peculiar person who can’t handle being ignored by girls like I’m doing now. “Do you have a name?” I remained silent.
“Wanna tell me about it? You really look like—”
“Like what? Like I’m about to hit you for invading my space?” He seemed somewhat surprised when I said that. “I’m not interested in anyone’s pity and it’s not your place to know if I’m okay, so please go.”
