Shards Of Pain

Movin On Up

Vibrate-Vibrate

Charlotte felt her phone on the dresser next to her trembling. She opened her eyes, only to be dazzled by the sun.

SHIT! Charlotte sprang out of bed when she saw the time on her phone: 9:30. "I'm late. Is Christian awake? Is Henry even awake?"

She rushed out of bed and went in the shower, which was open, which she found unusual because Henry would be in there around that time; it wasn't like she was moaning about him not being in the shower, because it would be a pleasant start to the morning and they are also conserving water.

But she didn't have time to think about that because she started the shower and flung herself at her make-up desk, where she began applying her make-up before putting on her shoes and dress for the day, which she had to choose herself because it wasn't previously prepared for her by their maid as all of her other outfits are.

She hurried downstairs to find Christian, still clothed in his PJs from the night before, sitting at the breakfast table with a full breakfast spread in front of them.

Christian, What are you doing here?! Charlotte began questioning. "Why aren't you at school?"

It's Saturday. Christian responded.

No, it's not. It's Monday—- Charlotte took out her phone to prove him wrong, but she paused as she reviewed the day. Saturday was indicated as the date. "Well, I'll be damned, You are right."

Of course I am. Christian smiled as he turned his attention back to his meal.

Don't get too cocky. Charlotte inquired as she sat in the next available chair at her kitchen table. "Who made this breakfast you are feasting on?"

I  did. Christian boasted.

Is that so? Charlotte glanced around, surprised, and inquired. "But I didn't smell smoke."

Okay, in my defense, I was 7. Christian spoke up in defense.  "And I think I did a good job with what I made for you that Mother's day."

The only Successful part of that breakfast would've been if you were trying to put me in the hospital for food poisoning. Charlotte chuckled, opening up one of her cabinets for a mug. "But in all seriousness, who made this?"

Dad. Christian replied, about to bite into his dish. "He was making some for himself before he left for work."

Don't eat that. Charlotte spoke, smacking the plate of food away from her son before he even got a bite in.

MOM! What the hell? Christian responded, somewhat irritably.

Chris, your father would have killed you with that breakfast. Charlotte retorted. "The only time I've ever seen him use a pan was to cook popcorn."

What am I going to do for breakfast? Christian asked in a dramatic tone.

I don't know what a 16 year old would do with a Amex in a city know for it's food? Charlotte expressed her thoughts. " But, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Okay. Okay. I was already on my way out. Casey texted me that several of our friends— Christian explained while putting on his jacket but was cut short.

Oooh, Casey again? Charlotte said in an odd tone of voice. "So, when are we going to meet this Casey?"

Don't be like that, Mom. Christian pleaded.

Like what? Charlotte inquired, her face beaming with amusement, while pouring herself a cup of coffee.

Questioning me thinking I'm with someone, Christian explained. "Casey and I are just friends, that's it."