I turn the key and the lock clicks open. It is the sound of another empty stay. I step into the house and see him sitting on the sofa, watching the telly while sipping on a glass of liquor. Greetings are but an overly-performed routine, mine with sincerity and yours with hurt. The smell of smoke welcomes me as I drag tired feet across the cold, tiled floor. As I pass the corridor, it is the same sight again. Left; he sits on his computer chair in his room with the lights on and the music blasting. Right; amidst darkness I see her, soundly asleep on the bed.

Entering my room, I chuck everything on the bed and stretch my aching shoulders. The clutter of books, clothes and whatnot remind me of another procrastinated day. I slump on the chair and heave a sigh, not of relief, but of sheer fatigue. Tomorrow is another day of despair.

felt like writing. reminscient of The Dead End, haha. Dear Mother, wont you just leave me alone?