Tyrese POV
My alarm jarred me awake from a dreamless sleep. I shut it off after a few shrill beeps—it's six o'clock.
I sat up, my older brother's pillow crashed into the side of my head and harmlessly bounced off me as he tried to bury his face in his remaining pillow, the soft cushion swallowing his curses.
As I got up, the twins sat up in their bed, still half asleep as they asked, 'What time is it?' in whiny voices.
'Go back to sleep,' I quietly told them. I moved past their messy bed and exited the room. Megan met me in the hallway.
My sister Megan is only a year younger than me, though she was definitely the most mature out of all my siblings who still lived at home.
Her short, curly black hair was pulled back into a messy bun, her brown eyes—supposedly like our mother's, but dear old mom's eyes always looked so lifeless and came with dark bags underneath them—had thick-rimmed glasses in front of them.
Megan had caught the worst of the freckle curse that plagued our family. The spots ran not only over her nose and cheeks but even down her neck and shoulders too. She flashed me a smile.
'Good morning,' she whispered as she shut her and our older sister's bedroom door behind herself.
'Morning,' I replied dryly. I turned and made my way down the short hall to the kitchen. On the way, I passed our parents' room. The door to that pig sty was cracked open.
With a glance, I saw that our father was already gone to work, or somewhere. It was just our mother splayed out on the bed, snoring as she was blissfully unaware of the world around her.
'Meggy, we're hungryyy,' I heard the twins whine behind me. In the kitchen, I opened the pantry and pulled out a box of cereal. Then I got out a bowl.
When I opened the fridge and retrieved the bottle of milk, I found that it was empty. I closed the fridge door with a sigh and threw the empty bottle out.
'You don't want some pancakes?' Megan asked me after she had gotten Jason and Josh seated at the kitchen island.
'Nah. Thanks, but I'll just run and grab some milk.' I made my way back down the hall and stopped at the door to our parents' bedroom.
Our mother was definitely out of it, and from years of experience with this sort of thing, I knew she'd sleep through a damn war going on around her whenever she came home like this.
I snuck inside and crept over to where her handbag had been discarded, picking it up off the trash and clothes-ridden floor, I took her purse out, and from that, I took a twenty-dollar note.
Money secured, I returned to my room to throw on a shirt and slip on my shoes, stuffing the cash into one of the pockets of my sweatpants as I did so.
When I made my way back out and was headed for the door, Megan called out to me and said:
'Would you mind grabbing some more pancake mix while you're getting milk? There isn't much of that left either.'
'You got it, sis. I'll be back soon.' I left as the twins just restarted complaining about being hungry and tired.
I went around the side of the little house. I unlatched and pushed open the door to the dingy, little garden shed we had, pulling out a beat-up, old BMX.
I rolled it out onto the street and climbed on. Then off I went.
It only took about five minutes at a quick speed to get to the nearest convenience store. A little corner shop that I'd never once seen closed. Must've been run by robots or something.
I dumped the bike at the door and went in, heading straight for the milk. A gallon was easy to find; the pancake mix, on the other hand, took more time to pick out on the shelves.
With the items in my hands, I made my way to the register. The lone cashier behind the counter looked way too… normal.
They weren't overly perky like one of those "morning people" psychos who intake more caffeine than air, but they weren't overly tired-looking either for someone who either had to start so early or worked through the whole night.
Definitely a robot.
I paid for the milk and mix, then stuffed the change into my pocket; less confident about the chances of the coins staying put than I was for the notes.
I rushed back home with the coins rattling in my pocket.
When I got through the door I saw that Megan had placated the twins with some cartoons. Both of the boys sat quietly in front of the TV.
'Thank you so much, Ty.' Megan greeted me with a tight hug and that big smile of hers. She took the carton of pancake mix from me and got to cooking.
I left the change on the counter and poured myself some cereal, taking my bowl over to the table.
I ate quietly, eyes occasionally glancing over to the TV in the other room. When Megan had cooked up the first batch of pancakes, she went and dragged the twins over to the table as well.
I finished my breakfast quickly and went to wash my bowl. Megan was munching on a pancake of her own as she continued to cook up some more.
'I'm gonna go for a run. I'll be back later,' I said.
'Don't forget something to drink, stay safe.'
I grabbed my headphones from my room and quickly brushed my teeth before stepping outside again. With my headphones on, I hit shuffle on a Denzel Curry playlist and got to running.
I ran for a few miles until I got to a park. There was a water fountain to get a quick drink and a basketball court that I could use for its boundaries.
After a while of stretching, to give me a little break I got started again.
I sprinted around the court a few times. Up one sideline, laterally along the baseline, running backwards down the other sideline, across the baseline again, and then do it all again in reverse order.
I'd sprint up and down the court over and over, backwards and forwards. I'd jump up and slap each backboard dozens of times, pushing myself to get higher each time; I'd be hanging off the rim soon, then I could use them for pull-ups.
With some suicides to end it, and after another drink, I was ready to run home.
I went around to the backyard instead of going in the front door. My shirt hit the floor before I picked up an old jump rope.
Ten minutes and hundreds of jumps later, I was dripping with sweat. I set the rope down and moved on to the next part of my routine: 100 sit-ups, push-ups, squats, and calf raises.
It would've been past ten o'clock when I finally walked back into the house, though I might as well have not been gone at all as it was almost the same as I'd left it.
No one else had gotten up yet, the twins were back in front of the TV. Megan was still watching over them, now curled up on the sofa with a book in her lap.
She looked up and smiled at me as I walked back in.
'I'm using the shower,' I announced, heading down the hall to grab a change of clothes and a towel.
I was almost done with my shower when I heard the door open and my older brother heavily trudge inside.
'Hey! I'm in here, Devon, so get the fuck out!' I said, poking my head around the curtain.
'Ahh, shut da fuck up, T… I just needa piss so stop fuckin' lookin' then I'm outta here.' He shoved my head back behind the curtain.
'You couldn't hold it for two more fucking minutes?' I groaned.
Thankfully, it was only a short interruption today. With the door closing again and me being left alone once more, I rinsed off and got out of the shower.
I got dressed and got my chores done for the day. Then it was time for lunch.
When I was done eating my toasted cheese sandwich, mom was finally awake. And clearly in a grumpy mood if her reaction to learning where the change came from was anything to go by.
'How many times do I have to tell you to stop taking my shit outta my room?!' She whacked me over the back of my head.
'We needed milk and pancakes. You told me not to wake you up in the morning.'
'You growing up to be a fucking thief huh?! You like stealing from your mama?' She whacked me again.
'Sorry, mom… won't happen again,' I lied.
'Go to your fucking room! And gimme your phone! How you like it when I take your shit huh?'
I went to my room, Devon gave me shit for getting in trouble again but I ignored him. I lay on my bed, facing the wall.
It wasn't long before the front door slammed hard enough to shake the whole house. Our mother was gone and I was free from my prison.
I knew where she hid my phone, so it wasn't hard to find. By the time she got home, she would've either forgotten about it, or our father would be here and she would have to put on her act of being the sweetest, nicest mama ever.
I passed the rest of the day watching sports, studying the greats of football, and trying not to get a headache from the twins screaming and laughing, or the yelling of Devon and my older sister Victoria as they fought over the TV remote once they had both decided to finally get up.
Then dad got home and thankfully the house quieted down as he sat upon his throne in front of the TV and assumed control. Like usual he complained about our mother not being around, cursing her out under his breath and barking for someone to bring him a beer.
When it came to dinner, he told us to order some pizza. He never was one to get in the kitchen and cook up something.
When I had enough pizza I retreated to my room. Tonight was a good night at least—there wasn't a shouting match when our mother finally returned.
Maybe because our father was already asleep, maybe we were just lucky that night.
As I lay on my bed, preparing for another day of doing it all over again. I knew that the start of my football season couldn't come any sooner.