The school sent a letter and it just got here this morning, I went to the mailboxes in the mail room this Tuesday morning with my sister's pink bunny slippers. "Good morning." I said to Mr. Bobby. Mr. Bobby is the apartment's maintenance man. He's about sixty something and has a huge stomach and jiggly arms. He's brown skinned with no hair in the center of his head and white hair sticking out from the sides. He was walking past me on the stairs as I got back from the mail room.
"Good morning, Heaven. How are you doing?" he asked me.
"I'm fine." I said with a smile, "How about you?" I asked him.
"Doing alright. Could be better." he said with a smile.
"Well take care and relax a little bit. Don't listen to Mrs. Bager, her toilet is not broken. She just needs to buy a plunger." I joked.
He laughed, "Hmph, that bitter old woman." he shook his head. I smiled.
As I reached our floor, I smelled bacon, eggs, and homemade biscuits. When my mom gets up early in the morning and she's in the mood, she makes a banging ass_ breakfast. My dad wasn't upset last night and wasn't drinking so everyone is in a good mood. So good my mother took off from work so that we could spend time together. I opened the door to our apartment, taking in the smell of the food and smiling to myself.
My dad was on the couch with Kia watching the news. I looked over at them and walked in to the kitchen. My mother put the biscuits back in the oven and smiled at me.
"I just want them to be crispy at the top." she said as I sat by the table.
"Today is going to be a good day. I feel it." I said looking inside of the oven.
"Positive. That's a good way to wake up." she told me. I looked at my mother's hair. it was slicked back and to her shoulders.
"Mom, are you still going to cut your hair?" I asked her. Sh shrugged and felt her thick black hair.
"Probably. Maybe right under my chin." she said feeling her thick hair.
"I like it just the way it is." my dad said walking into the kitchen. His tall brown figure wrapped his arms around my mother.
I looked at my father closely. We rally do look alike. The same medium sized nose and curious brown eyes. My father and I both have similar skin color. A soft brown with dark elbows and knees. I remember when I was in kindergarten, my dad would drop me off and pick me back up. My teachers would say that I looked just like him. We had the best relationship up until I turned sixteen. Somewhere around that time he snapped ans started drinking and coming home late and hurting us.
It would start with him coming home late, smelling like liquor and my mom would get so upset and he'd start beating on her. The first time it happened I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when I turned around and looked out the door. My sister was in her room when I called her over and locked the bathroom door. I just don't know why this is happening.
"Do you really?" my mom asked him smiling.
"Of course. It keeps your youth." he said to her.
"Well then maybe you should grow some hair. Bald is not beautiful in your case." I joked with him. We all laughed.
"Hair is not for me. I'll keep the shiny bald look. Amber Rose is doing it." he said.
"But that's different." I said.
"Alright. I'll get a wig." he said making us laugh. I like these moments and I wish they could happen more. But things just changed.
Soon breakfast was ready and I helped set the table. Kia ran in and plopped down on the chair near the kitchen window and I sat down across from her. My dad sat to the head of the table and my mom sat on the opposite head of the table.
