39.We're all mad here

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You went back inside the house when you started dozing off, about three hours later.

Hopefully, you could sleep another hour, till 5 or 6 am if you were lucky and your mother didn't wake up sooner.

Sleeping alleviated the pain. Life felt so much better when you were asleep.

The blaring of the alarm in the next room didn't startle you.

At this point, nothing did.

You had been waiting for 6 am so that you could get out of bed. Now you could.

Pushing the blanket off your body, you sat up on your bed, landing your feet on the floor.

You grabbed said blanket into your hands, taking hold of the hem before you started to fold it. When you were done, you placed it neatly on top of the pillow; a slight form of satisfaction formed in yourself.

This wouldn't be a reason for your mother today if she were to enter your room and find it in a disheveled state.

But she always managed to find or create other reasons, sparing no effort to exert her wrath and hatred for you.

You weren't sure if she actually hated you. But she didn't love you. That much was evident.

Lifting your t-shirt up a bit, you looked down at your stomach. It still hurt and there was a bruise now.

You'll have to buy something for it when you go out in search of another job later.

Until then, you relied on hot water as you bathed.

Heat boosts blood flow and also helps with the pain. Warm water can even reduce swelling.

Around 7 am, you were done with your morning routine and walked down the stairs.

Your first task was picking up the empty bottles that were still left in the living room.

Picking up the remaining trash from the kitchen, you were ready to take it out to the garbage bin down the street.

And it was just your luck that an empty bottle would fall out of the polyethene cover.

You closed your eyes in regret at not being able to prevent it. As if that would change anything.

The bottle shattered on the floor and surely it could be heard.

Because the next second, your uncle walked inside the kitchen. He looked down at the glass pieces and then back at you.

"Won't you be careful?" He said loudly. "What if my sister or I stepped on it?"

"I'm sorry. I'll clean it now," you kept your voice low as you crouched down, starting to pick the glasses up with your bare hands.

You closed your eyes momentarily, feeling a hard smack in the back of your head.

"Useless," your uncle said loud enough for you to hear before he left the kitchen.

The force made you cut your finger on a shard accidentally, but it could be ignored when compared to the throbbing pain you now felt on the back of your head.

You felt tears in your throat but you didn't have time for crying. You had to clean the mess you made.

Breathing out, you just shook your head a little before cleaning the glass shards and picking up the trash bag again.

Your uncle was leaving for Singapore again, after a month-long holiday.

So to send him off, your mother made her most special and absolute favorite food which was coconut rice.

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