The Statistics Of Alen [BoyxBoy]

The Advanced Class

sem·pi·ter·nal/ˌsempəˈtərnl/adjective
eternal and unchanging; everlasting

  🕘  

In the mornings, Alen would make both breakfast and lunch. Normally, his father wasn't yet awake to eat breakfast, and most times he'd find both plates in the microwave after he'd gotten home from school, untouched. Still, he'd wake up early, his sleep ridden mind muddling his vision and for a short moment, he'd think he was in the Aurora Borealis. Then it would clear, the frayed poster focusing at the center of his vision. He'd quickly get dressed, not having much time to waste. Alen always had busy mornings. However, he liked the routine. Doing the same mundane tasks over and over made him feel like he was doing something correctly. Nothing has changed and perhaps that way, nothing will. So he'd pull on whatever he saw first, jeans and a shirt, and waddle gingerly into the restroom that sat just next to his room. He made sure to just barely run the faucet, keeping quiet in all of his actions. His dad, for some unknown reason, was harder to deal with in the mornings. He preferred that he be out of the door before Jonathan Porter even woke up. So he'd tend to daily morning tasks, whip up a simple breakfast and lunch, and start preparing to leave. First, Alen had become greatly acquainted with sticky notes. He'd leave one promptly on his father's door reading, "Food is in the microwave." Then he proceeded to leave the same note on the bathroom mirror. A third would go on the television, and Alen had found himself plucking the old one off for a new one. 

He packed his bag with supplies, noticing the thick stack of papers in the inside. He'd almost forgotten that he would be switching classes today. With a low sigh, he slipped his books in, zipping it and pulling it over his shoulder. Alen made a quick trip to the breaker that sat in a small slot on the kitchen wall. He flipped the switch, turning off power to the stove. Alen didn't like the idea of his father trying to cook while he was in school, so he always made sure to turn it off. Quietly, he excused himself from the house, locking the door behind him and heading a few doors down. Alen knocked politely on his neighbors metal door, shifting on his feet as he waited. Eventually, he heard the quiet steps of Mrs. Abril's slippers on the linoleum flooring. The door clicked, once, then twice more as she undid her many locks and poked her head out squinting at the harsh morning sun that pointed directly into their doorways. 

"Good morning." Alen smiled, and the old woman returned the sentiment. 

"Good morning." She greeted back. "On your way to school then, are you?" Her voice was raspy, more so than normal in the mornings. She held her robe closed with on hand, her other propping the door open just so. 

"Yes, I am." Alen reached down, digging in his bag to retrieve a small book. "Here, I've finished it." 

"I only gave it to you yesterday." Mrs. Abril replied, her silver and black hair, pepper in color, toppling over her face. She reached over, taking the book she'd lent him from his hands. 

Alen smiled, gently. "It wasn't very big." He stated. "I don't think I should be at school late today. Though, I'm not sure. Please make sure-" 

"That he doesn't leave, or call the police, or try to cook anything." 

Alen's smile broke out slightly wider. He didn't know what he would do without her. She didn't do much, just kept an eye on things for him. Though she gave him peace of mind, and that was enough to keep Alen in school. Many times he wanted to get a job instead, stop living off of his father's checks and help them. Though Mrs. Abril insisted he go anyway. It's not like you're going to be able to afford proper medical care for him with a plain old job, son. You are better suited for great things. When you graduate, both of you will live much better lives. She had told him when he brought it up. He liked her. Alen was grateful for his neighbors. Specifically Mrs. Abril, and Hannah as well. They were both kind and helped him out whenever he needed. If he needed someone to cut his father's hair, it was done. If they were without groceries, they'd send meals to his door.