Gloaming

Inside is a-

Kenya's point of view
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Waking up was almost the same. My eyes felt puffy, dried saliva dripping off my cheek, and my puffy matted brown hair. Except only one thing was different, the sunlight wasn't present.

You see, waking up had always been the same for me. I usually hear my alarm and slowly force myself to sit up, my muscles aching. I usually hear the morning birds chirp, and the rays of the sun straining my eyes.

But that didn't happen anymore.

I've always hated the sun, I used to think of it as a con of my life. It gives out sun burns like a bakery give out free samples, it strains eyes without the use of expensive designer sunglasses, and its hella annoying, especially when working out.

I used to tell the sun to suck my dick.

But now I miss it.

Looking out the window is far less interesting now.

I force myself to sit up from the cheap yellow mattress.

I can't help but sigh.

There is no point to life right now, but I must keep moving forward, not for me, but for my baby.

I slowly force myself out the bed, dragging my body to the bathroom.

I look like a crusty Pringle.

I don't look like the 17 year old Kenya I used to be.

I look like someone else.

I squeeze the pump of the lavender hand wash and massage it into my pores. What? Face wash is rare now oK.

The hand soap is cold and thick on my oily face. I massage the soap suds all around my face. My nose, my forehead, my chin etc etc.

I quickly turn on the faucet, make a cup with my hands, full the cup with cold clear water, and slap my face with it.

Water was dripping down my night clothes, and into my bra. I couldn't help but to hate the feeling.

I quickly change into some maternity clothes I had recently found in the big donation box in the cafeteria about a day back. I slip them on within second.

I open up my front door to see a small shoe box laying in front of it. The shoe box is ragged, and poorly decorated. Tiny teal dots outlined the exterior of the box, and it was covered in 50 cent fabric.

I slowly bent down and picked up the box softly. I didn't want to mess up what was in it.

I drag myself to the quaint kitchen table. I place down the box and sit myself on a squeaky chair.

I begin to take off the lid of the box, my heart beating quickly, sweat on my palms.

Inside is a-