The soft click of my door closing behind me is the only sound in the whole house, it's the only thing anyone could hear if they were in my position.
There isn't much to see or hear around me.
When I was...months old, not when I was one year old, no, it stopped when I was one year old actually.
In any case. When I was months old, my early morning usually went like this.
I woke up, usually a bit early than my parents, or a bit later.
If it was earlier, I would usually take the time to do my meditation in my crib. The painful one, where I tried my best to get used to the pain.
If it was later, I would just do it before sleeping while acting like I was asleep.
Then, when my parents woke up. Usually, the first thing they would do is check on me, they took me out of my crib, let me out, and played with me while they were readying themselves for their work.
The last few months before my first birthday in this world. My father started doing something I really liked, everyday, he took me apart, while drinking his morning cup of secret juice -probably booze- and then, as he did, he took a book, almost always new ones. And he read it to me.
All while showing me all the letters, giving me the teaching I needed to understand the language, to be able to talk it, read it, and write it.
I look behind me. At the closed door that leads to my room.
Thinking about the stack of papers in my room, multiple attempts of me trying my best to figure out how to read and write.
Now, I don't have this luxury anymore.
That's why. Today, I would love to sneak around the library, or figure out a way to buy a book or something, having a reference to read and study with would be really helpful.
I've been hitting a bottleneck in my writing practice.
Looking around my living room, nothing has changed since I was nothing but a one month old baby, the only thing that could be said to have changed is the dust.
There's some dust around
And some dirt too.
It's a bit dirty, it's not excessively dirty, but it's still way dirtier than when I was younger.
Mom usually dealt with the cleaning but...uh, something happened, so, uh, yeah, whatever, I'll tell you about it later.
Standing up, I start tiptoeing around. Being as silent as possible as I inch my head forward and up to see if my parents room is open.
It is.
Did mom came home yet? I don't know to be honest, but dad is probably outside, working with his own dad or something.
In any case, I sniff the air. Smelling the...the alcohol in the air, a pretty familiar smell nowadays.
Inching forward, still on my tip toes, I go full hidey hidey mode until I'm behind the couch, looking above it, I try to see what's in the open room of my parents.
The light from outside shines through the window, the sun barely seeable with the angry clouds dripping rain, the sunlight lands on the bed of my parents, beside the desk where my father writes...stuff on, don't know what he's writing, but he writes.
I could probably figure out what he's writing now that I advanced in my studies, but I don't want to risk it.
Instead, I look at the bed.
Completly empty.
I don't celebrate yet, instead, I continue my tiptoeing until I reach the bathroom door.
Taking a deep breath and holding it, I inch forward until my ear rests on the door. Trying to listen for any sound inside.
Nothing.
YOUPIE!
I let my breath out and punch the air, celebrating my newfound status as being alone in this house. I stop titoeing, and straight up sprint as fast as my little legs can carry me into the kitchen.
It's pretty hard to sprint considering the workout I've done this morning, like every morning, thankfully though, like I said, it's a workout I do every morning.
And I got a full year of experience sprinting, moving, crawling, and doing anything I needed to do while being completly exhausted. So I manage to get in the kitchen.
To be honest, it's even easier to run while exhausted than running after waking up.
When I wake up, the pain is always worse, as if my previous day of work got thrown into the drain. But when I have the time to ready myself? When I manage to do my meditation and get used to the pain, and when I manage to train and exhaust my limbs so much that I'm constantly feeling half of the pain I usually feel?
It's way easier to run.
So I run, and then without any hesitation I jump on the counter and push myself above it, it's a bit hard and awkward because of my small limbs, but I didn't train for nothing.
As if I was used to it, because I am, I stand on the counter, get on my tip toes and open the cupboard that's stuck to the wall above me. The kitchen is an annoying place.
It's a weird place that's a mix of modern and ancient. There's a long row of cupboards on the bottom, but most of them are filled with nothing but dust and insects
In the middle, there's the weird smooth thing where my mother usually burned something to start making food.
She doesn't do a lot of cooking around anymore.
She still does it. Sometimes.
But yesterday she didn't, and that's why I'm fucking ravenous.
Opening the cupboard, I push my hand forward. Feeling out what's inside, there isn't much to be honest, but if I inch my fingers forward reaaaaaly hard. Push my fingers, feel out around, I'm sure I'll be able to get something.
Closing my eyes, I lean forward, focusing as much as I can in the hope of finding food. I even lick my lips in anticipation and concentration.
Isn't there an-! My fingers brushes up against a dry oval thingy, my hand is out a second later with my prize in my hand.
I almost salivate as I see the dry biscuit between my fingers, that's what I call a good fis-! The door opens.
I freeze.
Someone enter the front door, closes it behind them and starts walking. The footsteps are light. But end with a clink, heels.
"Hungry?" A rough woman voice resonate in the house, well, rough, it's more like exhausted, or maybe she have the start of a cold.
I turn around, still balancing myself on the counter to look at the person behind me, my prize still in my hand.
Ah.
Fuck.
Looking her up and down, I see...quite frankly she looks like a slut right now, but that's my mother.
Leaning forward on the counter, she rests her elbows on the counter. Making sure her jacket is covering most of her body, water is still dripping off her and landing on the ground.
I don't answer, I just stare at her.
She doesn't say anything too, instead she opens her purse, take out a bill from there and puts it on the counter she's leaning on.
"Go buy yourself something, also..." She digs into her purse again, until she takes out a key, and puts them beside the bill "...I know you're outside a lot so, here for you, be careful outside, call me if there's a problem, I'm gonna sleep now" She rubs her eyes before turning around, straight toward her room "Oh, be here tonight I'll make you something"
The door closes behind her.
"Thanks mom"
I hear a mumble through the wall and look at my prize.
My three new prizes, a biscuit I directly take a bite of, a bill I dart forward to take, and finally a key.
I look at the front door, and the new key in my hand.
Time to scout the library.