Me and this story

The clock stopped… 74 minutes past 3… and it was dark. Sitting up I glanced around the room. Empty, just like I left it. On the far side of the room a tall narrow widow stood pressed against the wall, leaving a small narrow strip of street light spill into her bedroom. There was enough light to see that the door was slightly agar like something was watching me. I often felt like my shadows weren’t just mine and that every step I took was closely watched and observed. I keep telling my self that it’s my imagination and why would anyone take any interest in someone like me. I got out of the bed and walked over to the door and peered out into the dark hallway. My room was the furthest down from the others. quietly so I wouldn’t disturb the others I crept down the hallway to my little sister’s room. Opening the door, I climbed inside and snuggled next to my sister. “You know you’re not supposed to be here” my sister said quietly in a hoarse voice “You know I don’t care” I responded and searched the blanket for her hand and gently squeezing it. Knowing that I made my sister smile I soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning mum went to the buy a ticket for us to go to the city to get my sister checked at the hospital. After waiting at home in front of the tall black metal door in their small apartment I glanced over at the kitchen stove where the time was, 7:56. “Mum should be back by now” I said “maybe she is stuck in traffic” respond her sister bouncing up to her and then showing her a drawing, she drew ‘look! Look! What I drew!” she excitedly shoved it in my hands and watched my face intensely for my expression “oh WOW!” I said excitedly “that’s amazing!” I told her watching the delight spread across her face. It wasn’t that good it was some scribbles on the page, but I knew that my sister drew me and herself holding hand on a sunny day outside. She then scrabbled onto the couch and curled back into a ball with her small feet tucked in, she frowned into deep concentration as she scribbled on her page. Resting my head on the door. I felt the rhythmic waves of vibration made by the doors opening and slamming shut and the small shuffling of footsteps echoing down the empty hallway. Stifling a sigh, I reluctantly gave up and slumped down on the couch next to my sister. Be patient, remember why you’re here, don’t let that go.

Hours passed by and I finally came home to find both of my children fast asleep huddled up on the half-torn couch. Careful not to wake them up I put my bag on the dark wooden dining table and headed into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, the harsh bright light flickered as I grabbed the cold roast chicken and thrust it into the oven and turned it on. Watching the small monster growl to life I looked over to their small bodies rising and falling with each breath. What would it take I thought to be one of them again? Be able to be free from this stress and be able to wonder were ever I wanted to. I sat down at swiped through the emails that I had received. The same thing. I wonder why they say the same thing every day, give us the same work every day, and still pay us the same amount should they not pay it by hour and quality? Stop worrying a voice I my head tells me urgently. I don’t care let me worry I respond knowing very well that it was an argument not worth fighting for. An annoying beeping noise wakes me up from deep thought, jumping up I reached for the handle oven and sliding the oven glove into my thin hands I pulled the chicken out and laid it onto the bench.

The warm smell of soft chicken woke me from my dreamless slumber opening my eyes I flinched at the bright light that mum had turned on slowly adjusting to the room I saw that my sisters head laid fast asleep on my knee and she was clutching my leg as she slept