𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝒀𝑯𝑾𝑯

𝑿𝑰𝑰𝑰

Waking up in the arms of my brother and sister might have been awkward to some people but felt right to me because I felt safe. The sun was already shining brightly in the sky, reminding me of my free day. No school, no stress, no worrying about friends and what people think about me. It's only the rustling noises of the neighbors as they rush to get their kids to school accompanied by the sound of pot rattling together coming from the kitchen.

Lael stirred under my arm, which by the way felt numb, before mumbling incoherent words, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm again. Ikenna looked like he'll be sleeping in for the whole day with the way he was sprawled on the ground with his right foot hanging on the edge of the bed, his mouth ajar, and his hands covering his face-the dark circles under his eyes were finally noticeable in the daylight.

"Thank you God," the content in my heart at the moment expressed in only three words. I knew that if I spent any more time by myself in silence I wouldn't be able to control the doubtful thoughts that would take over so I set out to do my morning routine.

Even after stepping out of the shower, feeling refreshed and the scent of my soap filling the room, my two siblings still didn't wake up. On the way to my desk I kicked Ikenna's right leg away from my bed, pushing his heavy body to face the other side of the room so I wouldn't feel watched. Tuesday is one of those days that feel exciting other than Friday evening and weekends. I fumbled through the second drawer of my desk in search of a certain magazine I once tossed inside.

My gaze moved out the window where Kenneth, I presume, sat on the edge of the terrace in his house. He had his legs dangling off the rail, his head drawn back against the pillar with his eyes closed as he listened to music. Something felt off though, maybe it was the frown on his face or the way he appeared to be vulnerable. It reminded me of the argument he had with his stepmother the other day-he had his own problems too.

I looked at the WATCHTOWER magazine and then at him, my sleeping siblings and then at my phone, contemplating if calling him would be crossing a line or whether minding my business would be better.

I chose the latter.

Ike groaned from behind me as I flipped to the next page of the magazine discussing issues of men of God who run businesses in the name of the Church, trying to see what the old woman from the ice cream shop was getting at. I didn't allow the guilt from how that day ended to affect me. "What's the time?" he spoke, his voice raspy and his hands shielding his eyes from light rays. Ike rolled on his back again, this time stretching every part of him. "And where's my phone?" he patted the ground around him.

"It's here," I waved the phone which I found under the bed for some reason. "It's eight thirty eight."

"It's too early," he said. "When did you wake up?"

"Ah ah why are you asking me so many questions?" I asked irritatedly. My patience has always been thin around my family especially when they ask irrelevant questions. "And who is Tee with a kissy face? She's been spamming you with calls and texts."