Morning finally came. The sun peered through the crack in my curtain, shining right on my face. It felt warm, inviting me to join it for a brand new day. Wearily, I rolled my eyes. Another night with barely any sleep. I rejected the sun, instead pulling the blanket up over my head attempting to lull myself back to sleep. It didn't work. Through the wall I could hear mother was in the shower, singing away to herself. Keep in mind that my mother is tone deaf, so it wasn't the greatest noise to wake up to in the morning. In a huff, I ripped the pillow out from under my head and used it to smother my face and ears. This was the only time it felt safe to fall asleep and I was interrupted by my mother trying to belt out opera tunes.
I forced myself up on my elbows and looked at my alarm clock through blurry, bloodshot eyes.
6:30am. Friday.
Mother was getting ready for work, of course. Thankfully, this would be the last day of the week where I would be so rudely awoken. Tomorrow I could sleep in, at least I hoped I could. Down the hall I could hear dad in the kitchen, fixing breakfast for mum before she left for work. Their relationship had been almost a complete role reversal in the last few years. Mother was definitely the one who wore the pants in the family. Dad injured himself on a construction site about 3 years ago and has been on disability ever since. This left mother to be the bread winner for the family. It also left her too busy to be bothered with annoyances like doing things as a family on the weekend. Since she was a lawyer, she worked many long hours and much of her weekend was taken up with filing and paperwork for cases for the next week. Nevertheless, I have learned to lean on my dad more than my mother. Though I do miss spending time with mother, it's been great getting to know dad again.
There was a time where mother was simply mum, and a fantastic one at that. I loved coming home from school, taking in the delicious scent of dinner, running in to tell her about my day and ask her about hers. Now it seems like too much trouble to acknowledge my presence, other than the same line she gives me every time I go to talk to her:
"Leave me alone, Uri. I have to finish this paperwork."
She never does get it finished. Sometimes I walk in to her room late at night and notice her passed out, sitting up on the bed snoring away, her paperwork in shambles spread out on the bed. Dad spends most of his nights asleep on the couch. He doesn't dare disturb mother.
"She does great things for this family," he tells me when he sees how discouraged I get that mother won't even give me the time of day.
"I know," I reply. "But how important is the money that she sacrifices her own family?"
Dad never responds. He just pats me on the shoulder, gives me an awkward half smile and walks away. I know my dad pretty well now. That smile means 'I want your mum back too.' We both missed her dearly, but have learned to just put up and shut up.
"Uri, hurry up and get your breakfast, will ya?"
I sat up on the bed, rubbing my eyes furiously. They felt puffy and sore, almost like I'd spent the whole night crying. Reluctantly, I slid out of bed and went to my dresser. I sat down, barely looking at my own reflection. I knew I would be disgusted with what I saw. I was a complete and utter mess. I hated myself for this ridiculous phobia of the dark .Achluophobia, the psychologist called it. The fear of the darkness. I felt like a child trapped in a horrific fairy tale sometimes. I feared the monsters mainly. They plagued my dreams, they consumed my thoughts. I know it seems pathetic, and I probably am. I don't know why I can't stop thinking about these monsters, believe me I've tried. I have such a belief that I have seen them. I swear, I have looked out my window in the dead of night and have seen glowing red eyes staring back at me.
Each night I wished, I prayed for my knight in shining armor to save me from the vile creatures that lurked outside my room. My parents told me it was just because of my lack of sleep that my brain conjured up these monsters, these demons. I want to believe them. I want a normal life.
"Uri, hurry up before it gets cold!" my mother nagged again. I took a deep breath and put on my dressing gown, curling it around my body and holding it close to protect me from the cold. My feet found my slippers under the edge of my bed and I walked out to the kitchen, not before giving my window one last glance.
"Nothing there, just your paranoia," I tried to convince myself.
