When the morning comes

10 | when home becomes a house

Dawn was excluded from my days. Curtains would stay closed the moment I'd awake. It wasn't the same anymore, words wouldn't leave my mouth when I'd try to describe the way it looked at that moment. There were no ears to listen to what I had to say, too. Sometimes I imagined everything to be how it used to be. But my trying got never rewarded with succeeding.

Sitting onto the small porch we had, I stared at the sky hovering above me, sun breaking the horizon. Coffee on my thigh, tiredness wanting to take me back into my restless slumber, and totally having forgotten to put Benji's wet bedding into the washing machine, the morning didn't start great. I tried to trade those feelings for something more helpful, tried to tell myself how lucky I was to live here, not fully socially excluded because of the neighbors, but still in a rather quiet area, the view consisting out of pastures, trees, and a lake nearby.

Swallowing the coffee, the bitterness resembled my feelings. I didn't want to go through today- knowing what was ahead. Busy days would come- the refugee parents needed to prepare themselves for the language and integration tests and since not all children spend their afternoons at the daycare, some were required to stay at school longer. It'd mean I'd be home late, needed to provide my son and myself for dinner and do all the household somewhere in the evening.

The things I'd do to just dive back into my bed.

Lost in thoughts for a moment as I stared at two sparrows sitting on a branch, the breeze making them bounce slowly, I wondered if one of them was the spaghetti bird. Had it flown all the way to the sun?

I looked up when I heard the screen door of the back door creaking. A frown creased my forehead, not used to Benji waking up so early. He was a deep sleeper, and I was usually the one to drag him out of his slumber in the morning. Standing up, I made my way through the house, looked down at Benji who visibly swallowed and widened his eyes. "Where are you going so early?" Gazing his appearance, I realised he'd already put on his uniform, but with the cowboy belt and hat on, too.

"I have a presentation." He said quickly, making eye contact. "The powerpoint got deleted accidentally and the teacher said I had to remake it. It is today, I forgot about it."

My frown became deeper. "What presentation?"

"About cowboys."

"You haven't mentioned anything about it before."

Benjamin rolled his eyes, fiddled with the cowboy hat. "Sorry, I forget things too. It's from English subject. We had to write an essay and then present it to the class."

Things didn't add up. What teacher would demand a pupil to come at school at such absurd time to make a lost Powerpoint? "I don't believe you. Why would she want you to get to school this early?"

"Because today a lot of peers have the presentation!" Benji exclaimed, furrowing his eyebrows in frustration. "Next week we have the school trip so we don't have time for it! And others come earlier to set up their table! Some bring stuff, you know." He made eye contact, didn't move his eyes from my gaze that burned onto his face. It made me believe him.

"You can't wear your belt when you're wearing your uniform. Ruins the belt loops."

Benjamin rolled his eyes, threw his hands into the air. "Fine! Can I go now?"

"If you watch your mouth." I answered, giving him a warning look. His own, frustrated frown faded lightly, he looked down before he snatched his belt off his waist and stepped into his black Dr. Marten boots. "You can take it with you, show it to your peers."

He didn't answer, simply reached for his backpack and went over to the front door.

"I'm talking to you."