Simpler Things

Part 2: Feminism at its best.

               After about an hour or two of procrastinating, I decided to knock on my brother's door. I was curious yes, plus if he died while my mom was at work, that was on me. It was Saturday, so I still had one more day until I got to go to school. Yes, I get to go to school, it's a privilege.
              I stepped out into the hall, and walked up to my brother's door. I knocked twice. No answer. I slowly creaked the door open. The room seemed normal, the usual combination of a filed desk, and a pile of clothes tucked in the corner. The bed sat against the right wall, out facing the street. A lump was under the covers. Snoring. Time check, 3:34pm. Okay... I thought as I closed the door.
       I walked downstairs absent-mindedly. Humming my favourite Kansas song, I stepped into the kitchen. The counters were clean. All the dishes had been put away. Great, one less chore for me. The phone receiver light flashed red. I walked over and pressed the button. My mother's voice greeted me, "Hey, I don't know when you'll get this, but I'm going to stay late at work today. I'll see both of you soon, there's macaroni in the cupboard next to the sink. I'll be home aro-" the message cut off.
             The water began to hiss and bubble in the pot I had just began to heat up. I lowered the temperature and put the macaroni in. 10 minutes later I was fine dining. After, I cleaned up dish and went up stairs, leaving the pot on the stove. When I passed my brothers bedroom, he was awake and at his desk. I peeked inside the door. "I made KD, if you want some, it's still on the stove." He looked back, awkwardly smiling, "Okay." He looked back at his desk.
                I sat on my bed browsing instagram on my phone. I rarely posted, but I made sure to keep up with my friends posts. Something about, peer pressure, was it... I switched over to Netflix. Watch check, 5:37pm. Man, am I great at procrastinating. Nothing else happened until 7. I was reading my favourite book for the millionth time, when a car pulled into our driveway. The engine turned off and the car door slammed. I rolled out of bed and crept to the top of the stairs. A set of keys jingled from the other side of the door. My mother stepped in. She took of her jacket, exposing her nurse uniform. Small cartoons spread across the fabric. She put her purse of the bench and slipped off her shoes. I walked down the stairs.
"Hi mum, how was work?" I asked as I hugged her. Smiling she responded,
"Good, except this man came in with a broken arm was totally sexist." I furrowed my brows. She said,
"Oh, you don't want to know." She went upstairs leaving me in the front entrance. Alone. A chill was sent up my spine. I looked out the slit of glass next to the door. The old willow tree sat, frowning, in my front yard. Our house backed onto a farm, decades ago had planted that tree. It was beautiful, the long branches covering most of our front yard. I wanted to carve my name into it, but it's been there since... well, forever. I didn't want it to change. I shut off the outside light. Darkness engulfed my front yard. I locked the door, and went around and turned off all the lights. Making my way up the stairs, I stopped. Something... wasn't right. I checked my surroundings. Nothing seemed wrong. It's just a feeling. It'll pass. I told myself. I walked to my room turning the hall light behind me. Closing my door quickly I stared down my bed. 15 minutes later I was under the covers, slowly breathing. Something still bugged me. I couldn't tell what it was. Pushing that thought back I closed my eyes.
          I twisted and turned for awhile. Sunday was soon apon me. I flicked my eyes open one last time. I looked through my window out at the night sky. Eager to think of anything else but this feeling I slipped out of bed. Walking over to the window, I studied my yard. Every dark silhouette, every star in the night sky. I wondered what would've happened if I had gone outside or if I left the lights on. None of this helps, but I couldn't help but think, could I have prevented the death of James Cameron?