The average young woman wakes up to a loud alarm to start off the day. The lucky ones wake up to the birds chirping.
The miserable ones like myself wake up to their mother getting fucked by a new boy toy. I try to drown out the noise of my mother's moaning by putting in earplugs.
Only to feel the whole house shake viciously to this new man hitting the bed frame up against the wall. Too bad we don't have any neighbors.
They would have been knocking on the door right now, by how much this man grunts.
I've learned to get used to it. Since I was three my mother has gone out every night to get drunk and high. I know she does it drown out the pain of my father dying.
Sometimes I feel bad, losing a husband isn't an easy experience that's going to go away in a day. On the other hand, I hate her and find her far too weak.
I mean they were only married for one year, she didn't know him for that long. How could she be broken so easily by one man? He was my father and I never knew him at all.
I've done alright in my life. After all, the only thing that man gave me the name Jada.
Might as well get out of bed, sounds like this guy isn't that young meaning they'll be at this for another 20 minutes. A shower will drown out the sounds of my mother desperation and guilt.
I hop into boiling water that could burn away someone's imperfections, if only it could burn mine away. I wash my frail body when impatient knocks rapidly hit my door.
"Hey, slut there's cake in the fridge you can eat for breakfast," My mother shouts.
"Why the hell would I eat cake for breakfast Eva," I respond back.
"Look at yourself Jada you're a stick you got to do something to thicken yourself up or else you'll be a lonely woman for the rest of your life."
My mother walks away but her words haunt me, they always haunt me. I don't want to end up like her but with each candle that is added to my cake, I feel like I slowly become more like her.
Bitter, loud, annoying, and desperate for attention, anyone's attention. I dry off my sick looking body with a towel. I wrap myself in a robe that shouldn't be oversize but looks like it on me.
Maybe Eva is right, I need to eat that cake to get a little more pump. Then people will notice me and finally want to be part of my life.
Not just forced to be a part of it because they gave birth to me.