Just Breakdown *on hold*

12. Routine & Repeat (Part One)

(Conrads P.O.V)
Same Day
10:30p.m.

"Mom?" Conrad yelled, shutting the front door behind him with a click.

Turning to face the living room he spotted the same mess before him; like every other day he came home. From bills stacked on the counter, pictures, and beer cans left on the carpet.

'A Broken Home', some would call it. Although, the only thing broken in their home was his mother.

"Mom?" Conrad yelled, shutting the front door behind him with a click.

"Mom?! I'm home", Conrad yelled looking around their small one bedroom apartment, over their small couch to the even smaller kitchen counter behind it.

"Honey, is that you?" came an older female voice, from a separate room to the left of the entrance.

Conrad smiled lightly, his smile brief as he turned to his mother. The middle aged women with Ash blonde hair and different colored eyes. For Conrad had his father's eyes. His mothers were a gentle light blue overshadowed by the bags underneath her eyes, her eyes aging and growing as tired as her.

She came out from the only bedroom in the apartment dressed as per-usual, in her blue scrubs. Since as always, she also had just come home from the hospital. Working extra hours for minimum wage. She always smelled like vanilla and bodily fluids.

"Sooo uh... Ricky said from now on I'll start working your shifts. So you don't gotta come in no more", Conrad stated, wryly flipping his truck keys in his hand. A little bit embarrassed by the idea that he had to slowly let down his mom about getting fired.

His mother nodded expectantly before covering her mouth as she stifled a yawn.

"That's good to hear", she yawned again.

Conrad frowned, noticing her posture slightly sagging. She must be beyond exhausted. His red and absent responses weren't new. Just like the smoker lines on her lips.

All of this was just per-usual.

All of this was the same, everyday.

All of this was just-

It was a routine

What he was about to do was the same.

Just like the mess and old pictures on the living room carpet was the same.

Just like his mother after two years, was the same.

"Hey uh mom? Have you eaten yet? I can whip you up something real quick-" Conrad asked pointing to their small kitchen and fridge. Most likely empty or barely full with expired food from the foodbank.

She shook her head, rolling her neck back and forth as she pressed her palm on her temples massaging her migraine. "No Honey, I'm fine. I'm sorry but I think I'mma go take a quick shower and lie down. I'm pretty roughed up after that extra shift" she murmured.

Conrad nodded looking down at her dirty blue nurse scrubs, "Okay, yeah. I'll just pick up here and get some stuff done" he said.

His mother smiled gently before closing the restroom door with a soft click and followed by the squeaking of the pipes as the water from the shower began to run.

Conrad slumped. He threw his head back in exhaustion and sighed.

Again, in routine he scanned around the small apartment, scanning and assessing his mother's damage.

The kitchen countertop and sink was full of dirty dishes, cold noodle cups, beer cans, cigarettes, and burnt scaped pans. The last one on the list most likely from his mother trying to cook while he wasn't here.