Eclipse Child |✔|

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My story is the story of forgotten people

and the voice of the voiceless. 

~Andrea Hirata 

***

The slamming of noise invades my ears as the alarm sounds.

But my eyes have been open just a minute before the hour turned to five.

The cruel reality that I should wake up before my clock can complete its job each day always brings a smile to my face.

"Beat ya," I whisper.

But there's no one there to listen to me.

Just the clock as it ticks down until the next round in the morning, for when we see who would catch sight of the barren darkness first.

I fumble in the dark, falling hard on the ground in the attempt to get the sweats on.

"Damn," the lights were the last thing I wanted on, but the noise I was making would soon wake the whole pack house if this continued.

Slowly, I open the door, peering my head out to make sure no one had awoken from the crash.

It seems clear until I catch sight of the open door down the hall.

I sigh. "Sorry, mom. Go back to bed."

But as I come closer, a frown forms on my face as a guilty expression shows on hers.

The evidence clear to see as I take in the still wet streaks of paint that smudge her forehead and neck.

"You should go to sleep mom," I whisper, noting the shadows that seemed a constant feature to her skin.

"I just wanted to wish you good luck," she turns around, no doubt taking in the sight of dad still fast asleep, before looking at me with a wide grin, "you'll do good."

Her smile is like an infection. I can't help the feeling of peace that washes over me as I take it in- my own lips tugging upward.

Mom always had this effect.

She was always able to make those around her smile.

"Thanks mom," I lean in, quickly kissing her cheek before continuing down the hall.

The smudge of paint on my nose makes my smile widen even more.

The cool air invades my lungs as I step outside, breathing in the darkness and taking in the stars that shone above.

"Morning."

It's a whisper I said to no one.

Just a form of motivation I used to pick up my feet. A way of encouragement that allowed me to steel my mind for the anticipated run.

Down the long drive.

Past the trees.

Chasing the sun as it rose in the sky.

Seeing who could reach their home first.

"I'm going to win."

It's whispered to no one.

Just the burning light that leaks over the trees.

I squint my eyes and smile at the tricks it played.

The attempt to blind me, catch me off guard, pull me astray or burn me with its heat and make my efforts that much harder.

"I'm going to win."