HELP IS HERE.
1306 Words
Chapter 10.
HELP IS HERE.
Kara's POV.
“Ugh!” I squeezed my eyes shut, and covered my ears with my hands as the alarm began to ring.
However, covering my ears with my hands didn't seem to help matters. If anything, it seemed like the alarm even got louder. Loud enough to rip my eardrums apart.
I just wanted to sleep some more. If I knew that the alarm would be a thorn in the flesh, then I wouldn't have bothered setting it up before bed last night. As the sound from the alarm became unbearable, I tossed the blanket off my body.
“s**t!” I turned to the other side of my bed, and slammed a hand on the alarm clock.
It stopped ringing. I closed my eyes and sighed as the room became quiet, just as I wanted it to be. I covered myself with the blanket again as I turned to the other side of the bed with hopes of getting some sleep. But, just then, I heard my name.
“Ugh!” I gritted my teeth, and squeezed the sheets in my hand. “What is it again?”
I muttered the words under my breath. Nonetheless, I tossed the blanket off my body, got off the bed, and walked out of my room. For one, I knew that I should have gotten out of bed the very moment the alarm began to ring, but I was just reluctant to do so.
However, that wouldn't have been the case if my mother was still alive. She would have yelled at the top of her voice for me to leave the bed.
Meanwhile, as I left my room, and made my way to the restroom, I stopped mid stride as my gaze fell on the empty dining table. If she was still alive, then she would have fixed breakfast, and set up the dining table.
All I had to do was leave my room, and then settle down to eat. While I stood there staring at the empty dining table, a tear trickled down the side of my nose.
I dropped my head, and wiped my face, then I proceeded towards the restroom. As I walked in, I turned on the faucet, collected some water, and then washed my face. After I did that, I stared at my reflection on the mirror for a few seconds while the water from the faucet kept running.
“The first few hours are always difficult.” I muttered the words under my breath as I closed my eyes, and sighed. “After that you'll be as good as new.”
That said, I turned off the faucet, and grabbed a face towel as I left the restroom.
“Didn't you hear me calling you earlier?” my dad asked as he served breakfast on the dining.
“I did, actually.” I said, toweling my face as I walked towards him. “I just had to wash my face first.”
“Well, I guess it's my job to fix breakfast now.” he sighed as he stared at the meal which he'd just served while hanging his hands at his sides. “I had no idea it was this difficult to get up very early in the morning, and fix something for us to eat. But now I do.”
“You really don't have to do this, you know, right?” I said. “I mean, I could place an order, and get whatever it is that I want to eat.”
“Yea, but we know how much that costs.” he said, lifting his face to me. “A meal costs over…”
“Yes, I–I know.” I said, cutting him off. “It is not an option.”
I knew exactly where he was heading to. The last time we had such conversation, my mother was still alive. But then, it ended up in an argument, and he just have to leave home for work pissed off.
That morning, my mom had suggested that we ordered something to eat because she couldn't make anything for us. She was running late for work.
But then, my dad insisted that she prepared something, no matter how little it was. But she refused. My dad didn't hesitate to remind her of how much it would cost to order meals for the three of us. He mentioned that the money could be used to prepare something that would last us for a day, if not two.
“You should grab a sit.” he said with a smile.
As he turned to return to the kitchen, I guess, the doorbell rang. We both exchanged glances. On the one hand, I wasn't expecting anyone. Not even Sophie or Sarah, because I believed they knew better than to show up in front of my house that early.
On the other hand, I doubted if my dad was also expecting someone. But then, he just shrugged. He didn't need to say the words. He wanted me to get the door.
I titled my head from side to side as if trying to weigh my options while I watched him walk into the kitchen. For one, I just had the feeling that he knew exactly what was going on.
Perhaps, whoever it was happened to be a friend of my mom, or a colleague of hers at work. Nonetheless, I made my way to the door. But as I glanced as the doorbell video monitor, my heart shook.
I looked back, and found him standing behind the chair at the head of the dining.
“Really?” I made a face. “Aunt Dorothy? I mean, why?”
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, putting his hands on the headrest of the chair in front of him. “We both know that this is a challenging period for you.”
“Yes! But I don't recall asking you to bring her over, or did I?” I raised a brow. “I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, you can. Until you can't.” he replied, shrugging a shoulder.
“I–I don't get.” I stuttered, blinking my eyes as I tried to wrap my head around his words. “What exactly is that supposed to be mean?”
“You need someone to talk to, sweetheart.” he said, looking into my eyes. “I may not be here all the time to talk to you, but she will be.”
“It is barely a day since I lost my mother, and the best thing you can do is to fetch me her sister, really?” I scoffed.
“I am doing this for you.” he said, speaking through his teeth. “This is a whole lot on you right now. If the situation isn't managed properly, it's going to break you, and I don't want that for you. I'm sure you don't want that for yourself either.”
“I am not some kid that needs to be looked after.” I said as my throat tightened with tears. “I know my left from my right.”
“Yes, I guess you do.” a hint of sarcasm rang deep in his voice. “And you proved that last night when you kept slamming the door, and stomping the ground.”
I fell silent. I didn't think he noticed. But then, the noise was loud enough to have woken him up if it happened that he was asleep already.
“I guess that's your way of saying you've everything under control, right?” he added.
“Dad…”
“Are you going to keep arguing with me, or will you get the door?”
- Writer
