Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep

A bedside alarm clock rang at precisely 4AM.

Bang!

The alarm clock was ruthlessly smashed by its resting owner.

Yawn!

After a long yawn, the sleeper slowly sat up on the bed as a vampire or an Egyptian mummy would after a long slumber in its coffin.

The sleeper lethargically pulled down the blanket over its head to reveal a young African teenage male.

"Ugh... Fuck."

My eyes remained closed as I navigated through my bedroom to get to the bathroom on the other side of my bedroom. I splashed my face with water removing the trails of drool around my mouth and crust around my eyes.

I opened my eyes and looked in a mirror in front of me, my emerald green eyes, the mole on the left side of my face and chiselled jawline vivid in the reflection.

I spent a good 10 minutes staring at my reflection in the mirror, not admiring myself, but mentally negotiating with myself that I'm really going to start a new day today and that I'm not going to get back in bed.

I'm going to do my morning workout, then go to school and act like I give a fuck for 8 to 10 hours, come home, do my homework, do my evening workout, then go to sleep.

'Nah, fuck it.'

I threw myself back onto my bed face down, I lied there for a few seconds.

"Fuck!"

I couldn't fall asleep any more, now all I could do was get up and do my morning workout.

My workout routine was rather simple; 100 pushups, 100 sit-ups, then a 10km run and finally 100 squats, every single day.

I have no idea why, but Mom told me to do it, I wasn't a horizontally gifted or well-cushioned child.

I was only 4 years old when she told me to do this workout regimen every day, a few years ago I did ask her why she made me do this as a kid till now.

The answer I got was, quote, "Because I'm your mother and I said so."

Then I asked her if I could stop doing it

She said, "Why is it too easy for you know? Put these on! Right now!"

She tossed me a 20kg weighted vest and 10kg wrist and ankle weights. To clarify, each individual weight was 10kgs not a combined weight of 10kgs, so to sum it up she made me wear 60kgs.

"Um... my lovely, sweet, most beautiful mom in the world."

 "Hmm," Mom gave me the side eye while she sipped her tea.

"Why are you making your precious, one and only son wear these?" I asked, with tears in my eyes.

"Why?... Because this lovely, sweet, most beautiful mommy in the world of yours said so, my precious one and only son."

"Oh, don't take those off until I say so. Not when you go to school, when you eat or when you sleep. Always have them on, and don't try to cheat this sweet beautiful mommy of yours."

"I won't be so sweet if you cheat me, my precious baby Alex."

A chill ran down my spine, and I broke into cold sweats as she said the last part with her usual sweet and loving motherly voice.

Mom was in her favourite chair looking out the window at the setting sun, drinking her favourite brand of chamomile tea.

This is what she liked doing most with her afternoon. I was standing behind her with the weights on, the weights were too big for my body, forcing me to stand there like a penguin.

"Come here," mom put down her cup and gestured for me to come closer, taking four steps had never been so hard.

I stood right next to mom, her features being highlighted by the reddish-orange of the setting sun. Her emerald green eyes, her fair white skin, slim figure, fiery red hair and ruby red lipstick, all put together in a pair of tight leather pants and a green blouse.

She reached out with her smooth, porcelain hands and fastened the straps, then pushed a hidden button on each of the weights. The weights compressed, tightly hugging my body. Afterwards mom looked at me top to bottom, a look of concern apparent on her face.

Sigh

Mom clasped the side of my face and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Don't take these off, okay?"

"Okay."

Mom pulled me towards her letting me sit next to her on her chair. She opened her arms and gently guided me into her embrace, she caressed my curly hair with her fingers.

We had been sitting like that for quite a while. I could tell something was off, but mom didn't say anything so I had to break the ice.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Are you dying?"

"...?... No."

"Then, is dad dying?"

"...??... No, your dad isn't dying."

"Then who's dying!? I don't understand!"

"Hahahaha"

Mom suddenly started laughing. She seemed to have understood why I asked her these strange questions.

"I'm doing this to make you really, really super strong so you can protect your mommy and daddy, so promise me you won't take these off until mommy says so. Swear on your heart?"

"I swear on my heart."

"Good, now hug mommy one more time."

She pulled me into her embrace yet again, and kissed me on the forehead.

"I love you, Alex"

'Do you now?'

If making her 8-year-old son walk around with an extra 60 kilograms of weight is her idea of showing me she loves me, I'm terrified for dad.

"Alex, I said I love you,"

Her words sounded so threatening that I snapped out of my daze.

"Sorry, I love you too, mom."

"..."

Mom stared at me with a blank face

Sigh

"I love you the most, I love you more than chocolate cake, I love you more than watching Dragon Ball, I love you more than playing my X station 5. You are my most favourite person in the world, I love you more than dad."

I said as if reciting a speech that has been repeated to the point it's become annoying.

Mom continued to stare at me

"Do you love me more than Chelsea buns?"

Ah, Chelsea buns, my favourite pastry. Those golden, spiralled delights, each bite a perfect harmony of soft, fluffy dough and rich, sticky sweetness. The way the cinnamon and sugar meld together, creating a symphony of flavours that dance on your tongue. And let's not forget the plump, juicy raisins that add just the right amount of chewiness, all topped with a glossy, sugary glaze that makes them shine like little treasures.

I hesitated, feeling the weight of the question. Chelsea buns were my ultimate weakness.

Mom looked at me, her eyes sparkling with expectations.

Unfortunately, her expectations were far too unrealistic.

"..."

Left with no other choice.

I bolted out the room through the kitchen to the backyard.

"Hey!? Wait till I get my hands on you!"

Mom chased after me, she could have easily caught up to me since I was running with weights on, but she deliberately let me get away.

We ran all the way to the cliff where mom finally tackled me and had me in her clutches.

"Uh… well, Mom, you see, Chelsea buns are really, really good,"

"But… I guess I love you more than Chelsea buns too."

Mom's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"That's a relief! I was starting to worry I'd have to compete with a pastry."

We lied on the soft grass and laughed, the sound of waves crashing against the side of the cliff couldn't mask our laughter. Mom held me in her arms and we watched the sun set behind the ocean, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink.

This is what mom was looking at through the window. The scenery was absolutely breathtaking, it was a true work of art, the cliff, the sun, the ocean, how each natural colour blended together, everything looked as if it were in perfect harmony.

I could see why mom enjoyed looking at this view every afternoon.