The way I wake up on most weekends involves my phone’s alarm playing its annoying chime that always got me out of bed. After getting my phone though, I like to do this thing where I just sit as still and quietly as possible, listening to what I can across the house. It lets me have a sense of… peace, I guess. I could hear Dad clanging with pots and pans downstairs; I knew it was him because Sophie never woke up this early, and Mom would never wake up just to make breakfast. Besides, I could hear her throwing laundry baskets around. And like I said, Sophie never woke up this early, and I would’ve woken up if Mom had woken her up.

Was it a bit odd? Well, I don’t think anyone else did it. But it calmed me and wasn’t hurting anyone. Made me feel like I was watching everyone from my room in a way. It was kind of also like a game to see how accurate I could be. But today was easier than most, so I stretched my arms and legs and quietly emerged from my room.

Going down the hall, I wanted to say good morning to Mom first. Per usual, she didn’t see me, and jumped a bit when she finally noticed me silently standing in the doorway.

“Ben!” Mom gasped, dropping the laundry basket she was so engrossed in. “Say something next time!”

“Ok,” I said, not really intending to do that. “Good morning.”

Mom was a bit weird in how she acted and carried herself sometimes. Unless she was dressed for work, she usually looked like a woman who was already burnt out from living in her early 40s. She didn’t hide it either, with her loose clothing usually consisting of sweatpants and odd t-shirts; if she went out she traded the sweatpants for jeans… sometimes. She was pretty adamant about covering up her body. A skinny and I would say almost just bony frame that you could feel every time you hugged her; a body time that neither me nor my sister quite inherited.

When she was in a good mood, she had bright and cheerful eyes that could lighten pretty much anyone’s bad day. When she was in a bad mood though, her eyes would stare icy daggers into your soul. She looked like her strength would be on par with Sophie’s, maybe even mine, but Mom could somehow make herself look like she could kill with a glance if she wanted.

“Good morning,” she sighed. “Your dad’s-”

“Making breakfast?” Mom narrowed her eyes and smirked.

“Ok Mr. Know It All, I’ll meet you in the kitchen. Go scare your Dad for once.”

She ruffled my hair and carried the laundry basket away, probably to her and dad’s room. I liked it when she did that; another thing I just enjoy. I passed my sister’s room and glanced in because the door was open. Dirty clothes were thrown everywhere and she was asleep, her body draped nearly entirely off the bed.

I just gave a bit of a smile and kept walking. I knew Mom would wake her up later like she usually had to. I tiptoed into the kitchen, where Dad was yawning and making eggs in a pan, unsuspectingly.

Creeping, I snuck up on Dad and gave an eerie “boo” right next to him. He gave a yelp and accidentally flung a chunk of scrambled egg behind him and across the room. He glanced down at me with a disapproving look.

“Ben, really?”

“Mom said I could.”

“Dang it Diane…” he grumbled. “Well, go sit down, and I’ll get you some breakfast soon.”

I went and sat down like Dad asked, looking back at him while he cooked. He did a good portion of it either because Mom was too tired or she would’ve just poured us all cereal and called it a day. Like she did that one night. I don’t think she’s made dinner since actually…

Dad’s body contrasted with Mom’s, not because he had any excess body fat really, it was more because he was contrastingly normal looking. He truly looked like a regularly built guy standing at the stove, cooking scrambled eggs. His hair was relatively short after a recent haircut, but still wasn’t as long as I’d seen in Mom’s pictures of when they were young. I guess being a family man does something to your sense of style. Even his clothing was relatively plain compared to my mom or sister; my own fashion took after his.

When you look my dad in the eyes, I think you see something gentler than what’s in Mom’s, but also something painful behind them he tries his best to hide. Every once in a while if he’s really tired or at his lowest, that glint of sadness in his eyes shows only to be covered up. He really does work himself to the bone some days for us all, and doesn’t expect much in return, even being surprised sometimes. Like when I would wake Sophie up early and we’d cook breakfast for our parents. He did his best for us, so sometimes we like to return the favor.

I turned back around in my seat and took out my phone. 

Reading comic books was something I liked to do a lot, and the internet was a great resource for that. Apparently my reading level is like, grades above where I am, but I wouldn’t know. Why would I want to read Great Expectations when I have Daredevil comics to study? 

And that’s what I did, up until Sophie came out finally and I got to explain to her the issue I was reading. I knew she wasn’t really listening, not that anyone really does, but she cared enough to at least let me talk endlessly about them. And I think that’s part of what makes her the best sister.

Just looking at Sophie, you could tell she was one of the popular girls in school, from the clothing to the looks to the way she carried herself. It all screamed “meant to be in high command” from day one of school. Then again, she wasn’t at the top; she was relatively in the middle of that pyramid, and I knew why. 

If you looked on the faces of most popular girls you’d see viciousness. Cruelty. Maybe even just straight apathy. Sophie’s eyes are too bright for that though, and her smile too genuine. It was the sort of sympathy and empathy that rarely got you elected leader. It was also the kind of attitude that made her popular not just for her looks, even if that’s what many of my classmates think of first, but also for her ability to care like no other.

She had a bit of a darker side though. It’s one she’s tried her hardest to not let me see, or at least not often. I see that light in her eyes fade as she looks down on someone with nothing but contempt. Reminds me eerily of Mom when she’s in the mood. In that moment, she falls to be worse than some of the most popular girls, and could probably make a grown man cry; I’m actually pretty glad I don’t get to see her like that very often. It’s not my sister.

And as for how she looks, it’s an odd comparison, but with her body figure and face shape, she looks the most like my Uncle Jack when he’s dressed up looking nice. Maybe it was because they both shared the same bright eyes and sly smile. Maybe it was because they both looked like they could be the star of the show, though where Uncle Jack does take it, Sophie usually lets other people have their turn. Her dirty-ish blonde hair was like dad’s, and she had a slightly thicker than wiry frame. I couldn’t have cared less about how she looked though; she was a caring sister regardless, and that was good enough for me.

We all sat around the table and ate our breakfast together, with some laughs and smiles all around. Mom was more focused on playing with her food than eating it, but that happened from time to time, usually for a few days, then went away before she was back to normal. Well, as normal as she got really. I was never accusing any of us as being quite “normal”.

*   *   *   *   *

“I’m going out with my friends now,” my sister called. “I’ll be back before 6.”

Mom and I were playing a game of Connect 4 when Sophie made her way towards the front door. She had her small handbag with her, which to my knowledge only carried her phone and wallet, but had to have more in it to weigh as much as it does.

“Don’t you want a rest after being out of the country for a few days?” Mom asked.

“Mom, the point is that I’ve been away. Who knows what I’ve missed out on!”

“You couldn’t have missed that much.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Bye,” I waved. “See you later.”

“Have fun, Ben,” Sophie chuckled. “Don’t let Mom win too many games.”

“Oh wait,” I added. “Can you get me something?”

“What kind?” she asked with a smirk. I always asked when she went out and sometimes she even got it for me.

“Um… M&M’s.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

And with that, she was out the door and I was back to playing Connect 4 with mom. It only took another 30 seconds before I put her in a trap and won though. She frowned and just put the game away. You can only lose so many times before just giving up. At least she didn’t throw it in the dumpster like Monopoly. I still miss playing that one…

Anyway, Dad was back to working his butt off again. Apparently he was behind on something and needed to get it done as soon as possible. Like I said before, he works himself to the bone and tries his best at what he does. With Sophie out, that left me with Mom for the day, since she had taken today off too.

“Let’s do something else,” Mom suggested. “I think we’ve got a puzzle around here we haven’t done yet.”

“Really?!” I asked. I didn’t think we had any left that we hadn’t assembled before. “What is it?”

Mom strolled over to the closet we kept the games in, and I followed. She was trying to reach for the top shelf.

“I got this one for a Secret Santa at work,” she said, struggling to reach a box, but taking it down. The design on the front of the box was of a big dinosaur in the wild. Simple, but also a 1000 piece puzzle.

“You feeling up to this one?” she asked. My stomach growled.

“Lunch first?” I asked.

By the time 5 o'clock came around, Mom and I had completed the puzzle, played seven more games of Connect 4, watched two episodes of a superhero cartoon, and played Mario Kart, which she was surprisingly good at. When we played it as a family she somehow always won, which I never understood. 

When Sophie came back home, the two of us had descended into playing checkers, and Mom looked so bored that it looked like she just wanted to finally kick the bucket. My sister made a move for Mom and took out two of my pieces at once. Thanks sis.

*   *   *   *   *

After dinner, I read a couple more issues of my Daredevil comic and eventually slid into bed. Probably the most calming part of the day was when I got to go to bed. I gave a hug to dad, then Sophie, and then mom, in that order, and went to my room. After I go to bed, Mom usually follows suit, with Sophie soon after. I could tell by just listening to the floor of the house.

I could hear pretty much everything from one room in the house as long as I knew what to listen for. I could hear mom’s light steps and gentle thud as she flopped into bed. Minutes later, dad’s more clumsy steps stumbled into their bedroom and hit the bed too, with much more force than mom’s body. I could even hear the slight screeching and creaking of the window as Sophie skipped out of it just shy of 11pm, like she did every other night. I could hear it all, and I laid silently and just absorbed it all.