Cherry soda calamity

🍒two🍒

The new house smelled funny. It was much smaller than our old one.
The small pieces of furniture we had brought were placed in a corner.
"The movers must have came before us. Bastards unloaded and left.." she mumbles with a tone of annoyance, putting the money she had out for their tip back in her purse.  "Shouldn't have fucking prepaid" she huffs to herself as she walked past me towards the car.

I follow behind her sheepishly, and take whatever she hands to me from the top of the car and carry it inside. With this , it took  close to 40 minutes for us to finish. My mother locks the door and walks right by me, as I struggle to carry her suitcase and the box she placed on top of it. Sweat's dripping into my eyes.
She opens the front door and stands outside it, waiting for me to hurry up so we can unpack. I stagger clumsily towards her. I trip on the bottom of the door frame, crashing inside, scraping my shins, and dropping the large box onto the floor. The breaking of glass is clearly heard as soon as the box connected with the floor. On the side of the box, is large bold red letters, it reads "fragile"
I flush red and try to stand up.  My shins throb with pangs of sharp pain. I brush my legs off and turn to the door sheepishly. My mother is shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose.
"I-I-" I stutter out, only to be stopped by her hand. "It's fine Sherry, let's just unpack " she says forcing a smile and clasping her hands together. She stretches her back before leaning down to pick up a few boxes with "MOM" written in the same red marker used to mark the box I just dropped, and disappears up the stairs.

I walk around, looking for a box marked for toiletries so I can tend to my maybe-bleeding shins. I eventually give up on trying to find it, and just grab a box with my name sprawled across it, and limp up the stairs.
I hear my mother humming in one room, so I bump it open with my foot "hey m-" I stop myself when I see her on her bed cutting up dress shirts. I stand there quietly, trying to crane my neck to get a better look at what she was doing. I see the shirt she has in her hands, and It looks very close to the shirt Dad wore for my birthday a little while ago. He seemed happier then. I look up to my mother's face, noticing it's shiney, red and puffy.
Oh no she's crying,
Fuck
Nope
I turn to creep out the door, deciding I can find my new room by myself, but my feet betray me, pressing my weight onto a loose creaky floorboard.