A little louder this time.
A lot louder this time.
A lot louder than the time before it was loud.
Then it was just pounding and pounding until Liam flinched and clumsily stood up with fear in his steps. Instead of heading towards the window like Zayn was aiming for Liam headed away from the window grabbing a hold of everything on his way out the door. Fear clearly swimming in all parts of his body.
Then he came back in, behind him was his mom. Zayn hadn’t noticed before, but his mom looked tired; drained. Her eyes, the color of lemons, but her lemon eyes were drained from the juice that is the joy of life. Her eyes were drained of energy; they were just eyes with no life, simple spheres with color surrounding a little black dot called a pupil. Her eyes were dull and they were adorned with a contrast of purple blue colored bags underneath her eyes. Her lemon colored sphere eyes were paired up with bright red veins in her eyes, each one making up for each day she lacked sleep, meaning her eyes were filled with red veins. Her eyes had this look of being inflamed as if she was just too tired. Zayn felt bad for her.
Liam’s mom looked like she was once very beautiful, until birth, hospital bills and a runaway husband came. Leaving her all alone to handle a broken child and leaving her to be the patriarch of her two person family. Leaving her to be the strong one, all on her own.
Liam’s mom looks young, forty-eight at most. But, her hair isn’t a very good proof. It looked dull and damaged, white hairs clearly starting to show signs of possession of her scalp. Her body is naturally slouched as if she was done with life itself and the ground was pulling her down, calling her to lie down and take a nap. She must have been beautiful before pregnancy, she really must’ve. But as of now she just looks like she needs to hibernate and gain back all the sleep she’s lost for all these years, that’s truly what she needs.
It was looking at people like this that Zayn realized that waking up in the morning didn’t mean he was drained of sleep. He should at least appreciate that even if six hours of sleep isn’t the correct amount of sleep that a teenager should be getting, three hours of sleep a day for an adult doesn’t seem like a healthy amount of time an adult should be getting. He should appreciate those hours more even if they’re a little bit too little in his eyes.
Liam’s mom opened the window and with sleepy eyes and a droopy, weak smile, she said in a tired voice, “Sweetheart, Zayn, please go.”
“I-It’s Zayn?” Zayn heard Liam’s voice in the back, he must’ve imagined the glimmer of giddiness Liam’s voice had because Liam himself looked twice as drained of sleep as his mom. His cheeks rosy, just like his lips, causing Zayn instantaneously think of the worst case scenario: recent crying.
“Yes, Liam, it’s me I came to sa-” Zayn raised his voice, placing his hands on the edge of Liam’s window and trying to prop himself up.
“Sweetheart, this is not the right time, please go,” Liam’s mom placed her hands over Zayn’s and Zayn felt how rugged her hands felt for a forty-looking-year-old.
“Liam, please,” Zayn’s voice cracked and he dropped to the ground a little clumsily causing him to shift to the side. Zayn took steps back to look into the window.
He heard soft and peaceful-sounding mumbling inside the house. They sure whispered gently and talked softly for a family so drained of sleep. Maybe that’s the reason, they’re so drained of it that they talk softly and sleepily too, Zayn felt so bad.
