IV. New Day
1142 Words
CLAIRE
I wake to the smell of bacon. What time is it? I try to recall what time I fell asleep as I look for my phone.
I can hear the bell from the kitchen. That means that breakfast is being served. s**t, it's already 6:30 AM!
I clumsily jump out of bed and go straight to the bathroom. How many hours did I sleep? I keep asking myself that question while taking a quick shower.
I dry myself off fast, and then I brush my teeth. I put on a new pair of jeans and a plain baby pink shirt. While brushing my hair, I contemplate wearing a little bit of makeup, just to put some color on my pale face, but then I realize that it won't matter anyway.
I don't have time for that right now. I look at myself in the mirror one last time, just to make sure that I at least look presentable. In only twenty minutes, I'm ready for a new day.
Once I'm satisfied, I get out of my room and go to the kitchen.
"Dad? Where are you?" I call out.
"In the kitchen, honey," dad answers. "Come join me for breakfast."
I find him in the kitchen, sipping coffee while reading the newspaper. That's his morning routine.
"Sit down, Claire. Eat with me."
"But, you are not eating anything, dad."
"Well, Corey's almost done cooking some bacon and eggs. Right, son?" my father asks.
"Yes, dad."
Corey is my twenty-year-old brother. He is named after our late mother, Corazon. He's got brown eyes, but they're darker than mine, and his hair is black.
Like our father, he is also tall, around 5'10". People would often mistake us for twins because we look so much like each other. We find that funny, actually.
Before sitting down, I pour myself a glass of orange juice from the refrigerator. Nothing beats fresh OJ in the morning.
"Okay, breakfast is ready. Let's all eat," announces Corey.
"So how's school, Corey?" I ask him before taking a sip of my juice.
"Oh, you know, the usual," answers Corey as he stuffs two slices of bacon in his mouth.
"Wow, Corey, you must be famished," I jokingly say as I watch my brother ravenously eat. "What do you mean the usual?" He always gives vague answers.
"I mean, there's nothing new. Homeworks, projects, quizzes, the usual."
"Are you doing good? How are your grades?"
Corey just smirks at me. "I'm serious, Corey."
"What's with all the questions?" Corey is starting to get annoyed.
"What do you mean? I just want to know how my brother's doing. Am I not allowed to ask?"
"Well, I don't like being interrogated by you, or by anyone for that matter."
"I'm not interrogating you-"
"You are on fire today, Claire."
I just stare at him. What the hell?
Corey sighs. "I'm fine, Claire, okay?"
I don't want to push it. I know that if there is a serious problem, my brother will tell me. Still, I can't help but worry about him.
He took our mother's death the hardest. He was very close to her. There was even a point when I became jealous of Corey because of all the attention he got from our mother.
That was when we were still very young. But later on, I realized that our mother was treating Corey the same way that our father was treating me. Some people say that men are closer to their mothers, while women are closer to their fathers.
But of course, I was also close to our mother, especially when I reached my teens. After mom died, Corey kept to himself. He would not speak with anyone, not even with dad.
He lost a lot of weight, too, because he would not eat. He would just stay in his room for days. He would cut classes, which of course, resulted in him failing some of his subjects in school.
He even got into smoking and drinking alcohol. That was the darkest time for our family. For me, it felt like I was also losing my brother.
It was only last year that Corey started becoming himself again. I'm very grateful for that.
"Claire, don't worry about your brother. He knows what he's doing, and he's not a kid anymore. And besides, he would not dare give me a bad grade or else I will kick him out of the house", my father says without taking his eyes off the newspaper.
Corey bursts burst into laughter. I don't find that funny. My brother needs to take responsibility.
"Oh, like you would, dad!" Corey exclaims as he drains his glass of orange juice. He stands up and puts his dish in the sink.
"I'm leaving now. I don't want to be late for school."
"Be careful, Corey. And come straight home, okay?" I called out to my brother.
"All right!"
"Claire, honey, give your brother some room to breathe. He's going to be okay. You don't have to monitor everything he does."
"I know, dad, it's just-"
"He will be fine, okay?"
I know the conversation is over. I stand up to wash the dishes.
"Where are you going?" my father asks me with a raised eyebrow.
"To our reception area. We never know when guests might arrive. Speaking of guests, where is the couple in room 203?"
"They left early. I'm not sure where they went. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothing, dad. Go ahead and finish your food now."
I leave the kitchen to go to the reception area. I check our reservation system, only to be disappointed with what I see.
Only two guests so far for this month, and only four last month. I'm worried that our hostel is not doing well. Although the cost of living in our town is low, I'm afraid that I might not be able to save enough money.
I want to move to a new city. But from the looks of it, that will not be anytime soon. I put the computer in sleep mode and sit on the chair.
I try to imagine which city to move to. New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, I can't choose. The only time I left this place was when I had to leave for college.
I lived on campus, but I made sure that I could come home on weekends. That was a difficult time for me because I wasn't used to being away from my family. The thought of leaving our town makes me feel excited.
But at the same time, it makes me feel sad. I was born and raised here. I'm in the middle of daydreaming when, suddenly, I hear a loud crash.
I quickly stand up and bolt to the kitchen, where I find my father on the floor, unconscious.
- Writer
