James woke up early the next morning. He got out of his bed and roamed the halls. He looked out the window. Their car wasn't there, meaning his mother had already left for work.
He was in the kitchen when his father spoke. "James, have something to eat."
He shook his head. He wasn't hungry.
"It's breakfast. You're going to be hungry today. Eat something."
James looked up at him and sighed. He knew he wasn't allowed to say no. There was no denial in their household. Hence, he opened the fridge and took out a heavy carton of milk. Then he reached for the cupboards, retrieving a ceramic bowl and a box of Frosted Flakes.
As he poured the cereal into the bowl, his father asked him the question everyone saw coming. "So, how are you holding up?"
He sloshed some milk onto the Frosted Flakes. "I'm fine."
"You know, whatever happens, just know that-"
"I said I'm fine."
His father shut his mouth, then took a sip of his coffee. He gave James a pat on the shoulder. "Alright, son. Good to know." There was a long pause. "I'm off to work. I'll see you this afternoon."
James nodded.
His father left the house, leaving him home alone.
Accordingly, James got up with his bowl of cereal, and dumped the food into the garbage can.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Alaska,
Short Story"A million words would not bring you back. I know, because I've tried. A million tears would not bring you back. I know, because I've cried." ------- James couldn't help but stare into her eyes. They were emerald green, speckled with das...
