Autophobia |VOLUME 1| [EN]

18

"We are home!" mom screams behind closed doors to my room.

Disgustedly I move the mouse to the upper left corner and finally say goodbye for tonight to Teen Wolf.

With buttery croissant coated with delicious peanut butter, I run to the hall.

"Father?" My mom meets my eyes than looks on the food I am holding.

I shake my head and get back to the room.

My mom who gave me birth seventeen years ago screams again and runs to my room with eyes wide open.

"What again?" I turn to her and followed her to the bathroom.

"You call this clean toilet?"

"I brushed it up."

"Than why is it still green?"

I roll my eyes but take a plastic bottle, which is very well-known among housewives in the home.

My name is Duck.

Duck the cleaner.

I turn around head to the kitchen for another french croissant.

"You are lazy, mean and incompetent! Even Hottentot would have done it better than you."

I take a deep breath.

I'm passing her. My gaze rests on toilet paper. "And why you can never put the paper holder normally!" I growl.

"Because it belongs there."

"Well, if I want to reach the paper, I will dislocate my hand. No one can see it anyway. "

"I see it and I have amoral. . . "

"I have a moral responsibility." I imitate mom's voice.

Funny how she notices even the smallest things, but that her daughter is depressed and sad she oversees.

I didn't dare tell her that out loud.

I still have a pinch of my old self, but every day it is cut off.

And I don't make those cuts. . .