Imperfections

| one

There are some things in life that no matter how hard you try to get used to, they always leave you hoping for a better day. My father's yelling voice works like an alarm clock on most mornings, waking me up with a frown etched on my forehead. I can hear him from downstairs, shouting at my mother but I can't quite make out his words due to the distance.

My room is located right in front of the staircase which means he must be standing downstairs near it. I let out an audible sigh, trying to mentally prepare myself for the day as I make a beeline for the bathroom. A groan escapes me when I realise that it's occupied and I turn to look at the table clock.

"This isn't your time to use the bathroom." I bang my palm against the door.

"Too bad!" Dylan yells back.

I let out a low grunt, kicking the door slightly before getting out of the room to use the bathroom downstairs and to begin my day in the worst possible manner – encountering my pissed off father. My step falters a little when I see him muttering one thing after another under his breath. I resist rolling my eyes at the familiar sight.

"What's wrong today?" I ask, approaching him as I peek over to the kitchen to see my mother packing three lunches.

"Can't find one of my files." He grumbles, shaking his head in disappointment while narrowing his eyes at her. "Are you done? I'm running late."

Instead of verbally responding to him, she comes to the dining area, puts his lunch on the table before going back to the kitchen. Dad lets out a low grunt under his breath and then looks at me. I pass him a small smile to ease out the tension but he just shakes his head at me before heading for the door.

I sigh at his behaviour before turning back towards the kitchen where my mother is trying to clean the mess her cooking has left behind. I slowly walk up to her and sit down on the stool by the island, cautiously looking at her.

"You alright?" I ask, my voice on the edge as always during such situations. She nods at me in return which makes me speak up again, "The usual fight?"

"Yeah. He couldn't find something." She shakes her head, not meeting my eyes but even without it I know she's both hurt and angry right now.

I know the drill by now. It's been seventeen years since I've been living through this. She will stay mad at him for the next couple of hours and forget about it by the time he walks in the door at night.

"Is your brother still asleep?" She asks, finally turning around to look me in the eye and I shake my head.

"Nope. Up and hogging the bathroom," I tell her, suddenly remembering that I'm supposed to be annoyed at him. I get off from the stool and make my way to the bathroom behind the stairs to freshen up for school.

I leave her with her thoughts. It isn't like she would speak about it so early in the morning anyway. I try not to internalise my father's mood. Instead, I focus on getting ready because I don't want to be running late. Senior year started a week ago and so far, it's been as boring as any other year. I don't understand the hype everybody creates about it.

When I'm done dressing up, I start brushing through my hair only to hear a knock on my bedroom door. Dylan's head pops in through the door before his eyes land on me, "Ready to go?"

"Are you done with breakfast?" I frown at him, putting my hair up in a ponytail. I pick up my bag and follow him out of the room and down the stairs.

"Nope. Don't wanna." He's spinning the car keys on his forefinger so I reach out from behind him and take ahold of it. "Hey, give it back."

I smile at him, not the sincere one rather the bitchy smile which he actually deserves, "First, have breakfast. I don't want to be called to nurse's office if your ass faints during PE. Secondly, I'm driving today."