Perfectly Imperfect

~9~

Your fairy godmother is your heart sustaining you.

                              ~Adam~

I was in my room playing a video game when I heard a loud yell followed by whimpers. My body jumped by itself and I removed my headphone, instinctively looking out of my window.

Dad's car in the compound confirmed my worst fear. The music I was listening to did not allow me to hear his car come in. I hated dad being at home, I preferred him away, on business trips; that was when mom would fully relax, that was moments when I'd feel like I have a mother.

I still waiting for any other sound. I heard nothing and I was about to go back to my game when I heard another whimper followed by the sound of a slap. I jumped up from where I sat on the bed and I walked out of my room.

'Your son is at home, you shouldn't do this in front.....'

That was mom's voice and I instantly felt my heart shattering like someone was hammering a nail into it; slowly and painstakingly. I walked quietly to the stairs and I could see him dragging mom by her hands towards the direction of the guest room. None of them saw me and I wondered for a moment if I should go back to my room and pretend I heard nothing as I have always done. They were almost by the guest room's door when I started walking down the stairs, my eyes and fingers on my phone and pretending I was engrossed in it.

'Mom, please get me a glass of water.'

The footsteps stopped abruptly and I did not need to look up to know he had let go of her hands and that she was trying to compose herself as she walked into the kitchen to get me water. I walked past dad to sit in the sitting room.

'Son, I thought you would be having your siesta by now.'

I heard his voice behind me and I felt my inside recoil. I was saved by a mom who returned at that perfect moment and I gulped the water even though I wasn't thirsty. Mom sat beside me and we all fell into an awkward silence until dad cleared his throat and announced he was leaving for the tennis court. I watched mom stand up and follow him to his car like the perfect wife she is.

Most times, I don't even know who I hate more between the both of them. The monster of a father or the puppet of a mother?

'What do you want for dinner?'

Mom asked me when she returned, her voice laced with excitement. I ignored her, focusing instead on the video game I was playing.

'I asked you what you want for dinner,'

She asked again, pettily. I wished she'd snap and get angry at me for ignoring her but she did not, she could not. She has never done that and she probably never would.

'Anything.'

'Anything like wh...'

'Anything!'

I snapped at her and I immediately regretted my action. She was looking at me as if I had grown two heads and instead of apologizing, I stood up and walked into my room. I leaned on the door, my eyes scanning the entire length of my room for a more needed distraction and I couldn't think of anything except for a sketch pad laying on my study desk. I ignored it.

You have a perfect one though. It's laying in your wardrobe.

I groaned and put my hands to my ears as if that would block my subconscious and it laughed at my stupidity.

Better go and take it before all these weights you're carrying pull you down.

I started walking towards my wardrobe before I could help myself.