"You always complain. What do you want from me? My life?!! "
"And whose fault is it that I'm stuck at home? "
"That's not on me! It's not entirely my fault " My Father bellowed.
Their bickering continued and I walked over to the balcony, just as our subject of admiration walked out— Mrs Jane Walter; "Ms J" as she would love to be called. I stared over at my Parents in utter disappointment, pondering over the sharp contrast in my head. They were so different - in status, in handling things, in EVERYTHING! .
Their worlds were never meant to be in close contact - not to mention colliding.
One of their cars sped past my house and I headed back, back to reality of the shit hole I grew up in. I sighed, my obsession gradually fading .
My Father stormed out of the house, leaving my mother muttering to herself, the both of them tired. They don't stop tearing at each other until they are completely worn out .
We weren't always like this though.
My Father owns a store and my Mom works in a bank, or rather worked until that fateful afternoon.
**** ***********************************************
My mother walked through the door, her face very tired, Even when she saw the chaos in the living room, she didn't bat an eyelash. "What's wrong?" my Father asked, hurrying to her side, she only sighed and rested her head on his chest, sobbing silently. My Father glanced my way and I understood the unspoken words, I gently lifted my baby brother and went to my room.
After what felt like hours, I tiptoed out of my room, even though I know it's wrong to eavesdrop, I was hoping to catch a bit of what the problem was. I had never seen my mother cry.
The living room was eerily quiet, just when I turned around to go upstairs to their shared bedroom, my mother sat up on the sofa,
"Hey" she called out, her voice came out hoarse, "Hey mom" I said walking over to her. when I was sure I was fitted comfortably on the sofa, I handed over the Babe to her.
He was still asleep, so she clutched him to her chest.
The living room was tidy , unlike the mess it was about an hour ago. I sneaked a peek at my mom and noticed the dried up tear stain.
"What's wrong mom?"
She looked at me and sniffed, obviously holding back stubborn tears that threatened to drop.
"I lost my job"
Setbacks are normal in life, she was going to get it back
"Why?" I found myself asking. In truth, I was searching my brain for soothing words, and I wanted her to keep talking.
My Father taught me, said silence made one ponder more on bad things
But why wasn't he here with her right now?
"Why?" I'd asked and it took a long time before she replied.
"I was so tired , always am. They found it irresponsible and told me to quit, no matter how I much I begged them, they refused to let me work again."
Her eyes started to moisten and I swallowed the remaining questions.
But later that night, I heard them talking. Actually Mother was shouting, even though I knew she didn't mean to.
"..... You never assist in the house. I literally just put to bed, but I work like a servant. Imagine going to work and sleeping , all the time. Why wouldn't they fire me? Why wouldn't they? Even if I was the manager, I would do likewise.You wouldn't even help in the little things. Imagine coming back today and seeing the house in a mess, you do that all the time, all the Time!! ".
I retired to my room, too tired to do anything, I decided to go to bed, just when I was about drawing my curtains did I notice eyes peering at me, it seemed to have realized it had been caught and quickly withdrew into the shadows of the room and the curtains were shut immediately. I couldn't sleep afterwards. The only thought in my head was, "Who was it staring at me?".