Another Day

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Although fiction, there are many families in this exact position.

Submitted: January 01, 2019

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Submitted: January 01, 2019

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Another Day.

Come and watch the fireworks, Stacey.” Mom is feigning some desperate excitement. It’s not fooling me, maybe the younger kids, but I think mainly she’s trying to convince herself.

Do I have to?” I don’t want to spoil her optimism but I can’t help it. I don’t want to look out there at people having a good time. What do they know, or care, about people like us?

This time last year, we were living in a house. Not a big one, and with just three bedrooms between the five of us, we used to complain all the time. Why did I have to share a bedroom with my younger sister? My twin brothers used to complain about sharing too, but at least they were the same age.

Then, within two months, we lost it. What possessions we could get someone to keep for us, we did, but most of our things were lost forever. Gone! All the bits and pieces that I’d kept from younger years for sentimental value. They all had to be dumped in the trash, and that is what I felt that I, that we, had become.

One room, that’s what we have been living in for the past ten months. Five of us! It’s not even a very big one, and even when we roll up the sleeping bags there is very little space to move. A tiny table in the corner has to serve for everything, from homework to eating meals. If Mom has to do any ironing, she throws a cover over it and uses the table for that too.

No space, no privacy, nowhere to even just sit and think. The air is stale, sweaty; we share a bathroom with three other families just like us, and a kitchen too. That house that I had complained so much about – well, it would seem like luxury now.

It would only be for a short time, that’s what we had been told. Just wait, you are getting nearer to the top of the queue. Really we were staying in place on the list; getting nearer to the top was just an illusion brought about by more people being behind us. There were no houses for the likes of us, the ones without the ability to buy, the ones that could not pay the exorbitant rents the private companies were charging for rent. It was a struggle just to pay our way to stay here.

No, I don’t want to go and stand there looking at hundreds of Euros being burned up in a flicker of light and sound. Just think what that money could do for us.

I don’t want to, but I do. I go up and join Mom at the window, together with my sister, my two brothers. She wants so desperately to believe, but I can no longer afford to hope. For her more than anyone else, I’ll pretend, keep up the act and say ‘Happy New Year’ at midnight. I'll make out I don't hear her sobs in the night.

When I get up in the morning, it might be the first day in a new year, but to me it is nothing than what it truly is – just another day.


© Copyright 2019 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

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