Home Isn’t Always Sweet
463 Words
KIRA’S POV
I came back from school as usual — unfulfilled, unimpressed, and honestly just tired of pretending like things mattered when they clearly didn’t.
The house was as I left it: cold, quiet, and waiting for me to fill in all the blanks.
Dropped my bag.
Changed clothes.
Did the chores like it was a ritual someone cursed me with.
I cleaned the sitting room, swept the hallway, mopped the floors, and went straight to the kitchen to cook dinner. Nothing fancy — just enough to make sure she wouldn’t find a reason to complain. Though she always did anyway.
When I was done, I wiped my hands on the side of my jeans and went upstairs.
I stopped in front of her room.
Took a deep breath.
Then knocked once and pushed the door open slightly.
"Ma'am... food is ready," I muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.
She didn’t respond.
She never does.
And I dare not repeat myself. So I turned around and left before she could throw one of her glassy stares or sigh like I ruined her day just by existing.
---
Back in my room, I sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to let the silence wrap around me like a noose.
Minutes later, I heard it — the loud shuffle, banging of cabinet doors, drawers slamming, pots clattering like someone was doing battle.
She was in the kitchen.
A rampage, as usual.
And I knew what came next: she’d eat like royalty, leave the place like a storm passed through it, and go back to bed without saying a word. Without a thanks. Without a glance.
And guess who gets to clean it up again tomorrow?
Right. Me.
But what was I expecting?
A warm hug?
A soft “thank you” for the food?
A gentle “it’s going to be okay”?
Yeah. No.
---
I tried to finish my assignment. My brain didn’t want to cooperate. Math questions looked like ancient hieroglyphs, and I had zero motivation to solve the mystery.
Eventually, I forced myself into the bathroom and took a hot shower — the kind that makes you forget what sadness feels like, even if it’s just for ten minutes.
I changed into my favorite oversized tee and crawled under the covers, letting my eyes drift to the ceiling.
And then I waited.
Waited for that dream I knew would never come.
For that prince charming who’d sweep me away from all of this —
Take me to some weird enchanted land full of peace, milk, and honey —
And maybe just maybe, let me believe I’m not completely invisible in this world.
Sleep didn’t come fast.
But at least when it did...
I could forget.
- Writer
