The Undoing Of Heroes | ✓

one

one

MORNINGS are the worst unless you wake up after 9:00 AM.

In my case, my alarm rung precisely three hours earlier, around 6:00 AM.

I was forced to drag myself out of bed, my body refusing to cooperate due to only receiving about three hours of sleep. I reached, blindly, toward my nightstand, and slapped the alarm. It stopped ringing, and I sighed, happily. 

Then it started blaring again, this time louder. 

"Okay, okay! I'm getting up." I grumbled to myself. I pried my eyes open, and the pale sunlight burned my retinas as it streamed in through the thin gaps between my curtains. 

I forced my tired body out of bed, before stripping off my pyjamas, folding them neatly and placing them beneath my white pillow. Then I shrugged on a pair of newly washed jeans, and jerked a hoodie from my drawers, only to pull it over my head. 

My hair was already a hopeless cause, yet I still endured a cringe-filled minute of helplessly trying to brush out the tangles. I sighed, placing the brush on my paint-chipped vanity once again, then looked at myself through the mirror. My short, black hair was straight, and annoyed me constantly by sending tendrils of hair into my face.  

Hazel eyes glared back at me, in a dark green colour with a ring of wet soil brown surrounding my pupils. I averted my eyes, just as my mother called for me from downstairs. I followed the sound of pans and pots banging together, and found my mother swearing at the burnt bacon that lay discarded in the trashcan. 

"Mom?" 

She turned to face me, and I saw my own eyes in her pale, thin face. Mom had a narrow nose, and high-set cheekbones, but retained an elegant air that'd never dimmed throughout my upbringing. 

"Hey, hun. Sorry I woke you with all my racket. I'm still not good at American cuisine." 

A light blush appeared on mom's cheeks, and I smiled gently.

"It's fine mom. You know I like your sushi more, either way."

"Aww, hun, don't cuddle up to me now just because your birthday's in a few weeks."

I smiled, guiltily. 

"There's cereal in the cupboard." She gestured toward the other end of our kitchen. "Feel free to take whatever you'd like. You start at 8:00, right?"

I nodded absentmindedly, rummaging through the cupboards humming my favourite song.  My hands closed around the package, and with a triumphant grin I snatched it, and begun pouring it into a blue bowl. 

My mother paced the kitchen as I munched on my cereal, and an unidentifiable emotion twisted her features into a wobbly smile. 

"Hun-" She began, and I immediately recognised the set of her shoulders, the wobbly smile. It was not anxiousness, no, it was the bitter taste of knowing something bad. 

"I know you specifically asked me to not hide our economics but right now, it's looking pretty bad. Since a few weeks actually."  

She wrung her hands together, avoiding my pointed glance. 

"I just don't want you to be worried if the lights go out, alright? The owner of the restaurant promised me he'd raise my wage-"

"Mom!" I interrupted, something akin to anger masking my usual smile. "He's not even paying you minimum wage. What makes you think he'd suddenly change his mind, huh?"