Saving Everest

9.

-I don't even have to know you
To have the wisdom of knowing
That the world would suffer a great loss
If you weren't here

BEVERLY

Have you ever just woke up, the bright sun welcoming you, the birds outside chirping and you didn't seem to mind. You just laid there in bed thinking that you were happy to be alive?

If you haven't, then I'm sorry, because on this particular morning, I was happy to be alive. To hear those birds and feel the warmth of the sun coming from the window. The light blinding me and the birds' usual annoying chirp was something to cherish today.

I laid there in my thoughts; thoughts too big to fit in my twin-sized bed. I was thinking about nothing at all, but everything. I know that doesn't make sense, but if you think about it hard enough, then it does make sense.

"Beverly! Clean this place, it's a wreck," Aunt Macy's voice shouted from somewhere.

The Friday morning feeling soon died. I checked the time and I had about an hour and some change to get ready for school.

I walked into the hall and peeked into my mother's bedroom, where she was sound asleep. A burning smell came from the kitchen, and when I entered my eyes watched the scene, as my Aunt Macy lit a cigarette.

She must have spent the night because she wore clothes that were wrinkled and her once heavy makeup was smeared.

"You shouldn't really smoke in here, it takes a while to get the smell out," I told her, opening the fridge and pulling out the orange juice.

"Maybe some cleaning around here will get the smell out. It's a mess here and your mom works hard. The least you can do is clean up," she lectured, taking another puff from her cigarette. Her long hot pink nails harboring the cancer stick.

I glanced around the kitchen and saw dishes piled high in the sink, a Chipotle bag on the floor, ashes from cigarettes laying around, the garbage filled to capacity, and an empty wine bottle sitting on the stove.

My mother told me she didn't have any gas to come and pick me up, but she had enough money to buy items for her little adult get together last night.

I swallowed the frustration. I had nothing to do with this mess, I came straight home and went to sleep. Throwback music, smoke, and laughter filled the living room all last night, but I didn't mind. I just don't understand how I have to clean up their mess.

"I will clean it," was my simple reply, I gripped the glass of my orange juice tight.

My Aunt Macy is like my second mother. She's been there for my mom since before I was even a thought. They've been best friends since sixth grade.

"Yeah, you have to pick up your weight around—" her obnoxious ring tone cut her off and she answered it.

I placed a slice of bread into the toaster and ate a banana while I waited for my toast.

"Seriously? But... I can't... please," she argued into her phone and I sipped more of my orange juice.

She hung up her phone, and her head drooped low. Her long black hair covering her face, she pulled on the long stands and groaned. Sitting upwards, she took another puff from her cig.

I tried to ignore her, but her constant groaning was an obvious sign that she wanted me to ask her what's wrong.

"What's wrong?" I asked cautiously.

"My job interview is at the same time I have to pick up Manny from school." It's not surprising that Aunt Macy would want to get a second job, the pay at the salon sucks.