Monday.Tuesday.Wednesday.Thursday.Friday.Saturday.Sunday. Each of these words, though not originally created to, has a connotation that follows with them. Each one carries a feeling. Each word holds an excuse. Each word, though being just a word, impacts how we feel on each of those days. Why? Because every day holds a different responsibility, a new opportunity, and every single day show us something. Every word entails time passing. Each of the few simple words everyone learns at a young age is a confirmation to most that our lives have become an almost useless mesh of routine. Perhaps if we didn't know what day it was our entire judgment would be truer, just maybe our entire perception of the events that rule out in that time span would be viewed with less of a bias.
*****
12:43 p.m. To most this is an unusually late time to awake, to Mathew this was early; however he did not care nor was he aware of the current time. There was no clock or anything that could in anyway measure time in his room. Time was a useless concept to him as were most, such as human interaction. Sluggishly he threw himself out of his large bed and walked across the room to the door, stumbling here and there upon the cluster of clothes and small bits of garbage that had not been there for long and probably wouldn't, as he was neither a neat freak or a slob. The bathroom directly faced his room, which is the first place he headed nearly every morning. His scheduled bathroom sessions were probably the only portion of his day that was routine. Having the restroom so close to his room meant he didn't have to even talk to his parents every time he walked out of his room. It was a reassuring fact that he could go the entire day with out any interaction of any kind. It also felt nice not having to walk down the hallway that his mother had perfectly decorated with pictures from his past glittered all up and down neatly in an orderly fashion some how. Some were of when his opinion was too indecisive and he was forced to engage in extra activities, including baseball and a few years were taken by soccer as well. useless talents. Mathew especially cringed at the artificial happy he expressed involuntarily just so at this point in his life he and his parents or other friends/ family members could look back and have the happiness of those days shared, but he never cared enough about those days to really cherish any of them. He never bothered with looking back anymore and found the pictures just pictures instead of what they were intended to be. Useless.
Entering the restroom he grabbed a towel, set it aside, and turned on the shower. Some people used coffee as a way to jump start their nerves and fully wake up, Coffee was more his dad. Mathew counted on his daily shower to pull his mind to the not-so-bright reality he was living. The reflection of himself in the mirror was never anything interesting and he seldom looked for longer than he had to, which really only was when he brushed his teeth (and even that wasn't necessarily mandatory.) there were a very rare amount of times where he, at most, would brush his short-ish grey washed brown hair. his definition of brushing his hair mainly consisted of running his fingers through it. Mathews appearance was purely average. He wasn't pale, but he wasn't tan and he was definitely not short, however, he wasn't close to being tall either, his weight was also not excessive along with it not being absent. Over all there was nothing about his looks that stood out, even his mute green eyes didn't call to anyone's attention. Not that he cared, Mathew wasn't one for attention, but he didn't get nervous in the spotlight.
Back to his room. 1:09 p.m. He gathered up his clothes and threw them into a basket near the dresser, he'd clean them later. If not for the occasional rumble in his stomach Mathew would forget to eat, not that he didn't like food. There were too many things he had to do and he didn't want to waste any of his time on food, he did anyway. The position of his room was all around convenient as the stairs were next to the bathroom, leaving his room they were to the left. the stair case led the front door and then again to his left was the dining room connected to the kitchen just past the door entrance and farther back was where the living room resided. Casually he walked passed everything to the kitchen, but he knew even though he made not even the slightest noise his mother had sprung up off the couch to tend to any wish he called out. She was a very petite and curvy woman and her voice was equally as soft, seemingly withering with age. There was nothing that stuck out about his parents, just as there wasn't with him. Yay genetics.
"Do you need anything Matty?" She smiled sweetly implying to him that she had made breakfast for him already. He usually tried to humor her, even though she tried to hide it he could tell it broke her a little more every time she was reminded her kid was dysfunctional.
"Uh yeah, breakfast?" He cleared his throat.
"lunch." The correction came from his father and was the only reason Mathew was even aware of the time. He threw away a paper plate then looked back at Mathew. "It's 1 in the afternoon." Mathew always found it slightly intimidating when his fathers' jaw clenched noticeably after he was done talking, but only when he was a kid. now it made him want to smirk, in the past, he found out that was the 'inappropriate' response.
"I know what time it is," he spoke regarding his father previous statement even though it was a lie. His father wore thick black hair, short, and the same dull green eyes he did, along with their completion. Most of his relatives compare him to his father as if they were twins. Mathew always found this the slightest bit amusing because aside from their physical attributes they held no other similarities. "here you go sweetie" his mom said setting his now freshly warmed plate down on the table and patting his shoulder fondly. seeing it an opportunity to talk she sat down with him and his father exited stage left. "you feel alright?" she asked just as he took a bite.
"Just as good as yesterday, why ?"
"Your voice just sounds a little raspy like you have a cold or a cough ..."
"I'm fine" at this point he knew she was only asking to make conversation and felt obligated to carry it out longer. "Hey mom I have a ton of home work to finish, do you think maybe you could grab my laundry for me?" He was perfectly capable, the overwhelming amount of homework was a lie. It wasn't that he was attempting to evade his responsibilities or anything, no he was only trying to help his mother, who lived to help him. (too bad he never needed help.)never the less he asked her for something here and there, and it wasn't like he didn't love her.
"Sure." Her lips stretched thin and she stood walking to him and gently kissing him on the forehead before leaving the room. Yes all the love in the world in his home , yet depression still crept into his life. Odd when mommy and daddy did not fight and his social life was perfectly fine. what could possibly be the reason for his anxiety? why would he ever be upset? He had everything. It's only a phase. he's just confused. just be happy. no. He hated every bit of this pretentious happy crap.
1:46 p.m. Back to his room . Now he sat staring out the window directly in front of his desk. One thing he hated about this house was how close they lived to the school, which was now all he saw. One of the worst places he could think of, but he got over it. In about an hour he would again be reminded of how close he was as school would be getting out and those trapped in its walls would flee. but for now he sat at his desk doing the small amount of homework he did have, taking him a whopping 12 minutes. When he finished he moved on to the things that he like to do on his computer, games were typically within that category but today he started where he had left off the previous day. Editing a picture for comical purposes, an inside joke. He did have friends despite what the common person thought, though there wasn't enough people that knew him for there to be a common opinion.
2:48p.m. Restroom break. 2:54 p.m. Back to work. His life was hardly interesting to anyone's outlook but his own. 3:00 his mom was back with a stack of neatly folded laundry-he pretended to be engrossed in his homework to play the part and to avoid contact.she didn't engage in conversation. 3:11 p.m. And he was done with his masterpiece. He laughed a little to himself as he sent it to the friend who had conspired the inside joke with him. Mathew sat back in his desk chair stretching his arms over his head.for a moment he stares at the ceiling and then his gaze slowly went down as his hands resting in their normal spots; left on the keyboard and right on the mouse. His eyes ,however, slowly ran down the ceiling to the window where they rested . There was a park adjacent to the back of the very back of the school and that's what he could see. The back of the school and the front portion of the park ,consisting mostly of grass and trees. Boring. Except there now stood a girl in that boring section that normally would be empty. He checked the time on his computer , it had been over a year since he did that and the fact that he had to pull up a clock application proved his disconcert with it. 3:17 p.m. School had been out for 27 minutes, most people were where they needed to be or waiting at the appropriate destination of the schools front and not the back. Strange. Mathew had made his judgements. She seemed to be taller than average, but not "tall" and was much too thin like his mother hair was long and dark but still kinda light (natural high lights gleaming here and there.), and unlike him here skin was fine and pale. She wore a t-shirt that looked like it was pulled from his closet , in fact he could've sworn it was in his neatly folded clothes pile, and ripped jeans but not fake ripped. The knees were the only part that gapped open and after a little further speculation he noticed small drawings sprawled on little sections here and there. He assumes they were her drawings. With each new fact he discovered about her a few questions drug with them.
3:43 p.m. She was now sitting and school had been out for almost an hour. Mathew had returned to his own tasks on his computer and occasionally looked away to check on her. She was reading. By 4:00 he cracked his window opened and around 4:12 he knew she was no longer reading. Peering up over his screen he could see her dancing as if no one could see her, she couldn't dance or at least that's what he saw it was more like acting out the entire song. The fact that she was singing loud enough for him to hear made him wonder if maybe she didn't care if anyone saw or not. Nirvana. His kind of music. 4:32 p.m. She had returned to sitting a few minutes ago, her patience running thin as she checked desperately every car that ran by and constantly looked up tensely not allowing herself to be herself as he thought she was earlier. A silver truck rolled to a stop in front of her and she sprang up throwing her backpack into the back. The driver had gotten out to meet her but left the door wide open allowing the car radio to blast its rap music into the neighborhood. The man that got out had thick black hair hanging shakily in his face. He was tan and wore a white tank top paired with baggy pants. The girl turned and joyfully jumped into his arms.they stayed rocking like that for a while before he pulled away saying something washed in the wind to Mathew but it had to of made her happy as her reaction was a good smile ,genuine unlike his, and she kisses him. Mathew felt his interest begin to drip away, they hadn't stopped at one kiss they began to make out.his interest was gone at this point , it was gone before the little truck squealed it's way out of sight with the shittiest music Mathew had ever heard. 'And my mom hates my music' he had thought when the car first opened up. He had higher expectations. He didn't think the girl he had seen would even hang out with the man who picked her up. It was wrong. She was normal, but not too formal. Mathew liked that there were some things that stood out about her but she seemed relatable to him as well. From what he'd seen he was wrong, his judgement was altered and he deemed her just like everyone else.
Comments (0)
See all