I didn’t remember leaving the door open as I left this morning, though, I didn’t remember much of the mornings anyways. It’s all routine to me now, like a part of an automatic process. 

I stepped inside my home; it was a mess. 

I saw the living room, the TV was knocked over. The couches laid on their backs with their feet in the air; their cushions were found laying around in random parts of the room, as if someone had haphazardly thrown them. The ground was littered with the bodies of books and their ripped pages. The wooden bookshelf that once held them was also knocked over. Shimmering lights on the ground indicated there were CDs buried under the paper. The potted plant in the corner wasn’t spared either, it rested on its side as the soil spilled on the ground.

I breathed a sigh of relief once I realized that my aquarium near the window was intact. Mr. Goldy swam around happily in his own little world.  

I took off my sneakers and set them down neatly on the empty shoe rack. I found another pair of shoes: my mother’s. I arranged them next to mine. After upturning the knocked over coat hanger, I gently hung my jacket on it. I picked up my mother’s coat and hung it as well. 

I tiptoed my way around the scattered pages into the kitchen to wash my hands. I could hear my mother in the washroom, she probably couldn’t hold it in if the house was like this. 

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The kitchen was in a worse state. Cupboards hung open as the floor was littered with the pieces of broken plates, bowls, cups, and bottles. I wanted to put on my shoes to walk through the sharp shards of glass but I decided against it. I shuffled in a way that my feet never left the floor. With each step, the shards were pushed to the side. Like this, I waddled to the kitchen sink. 

There was a knife on the floor beside me. I held onto the kitchen counter with my right hand and stuck out my right foot behind me as a counterweight. Like this, I leaned forwards while balancing on my left foot. The knife was just inside my reach, with some stretching, I managed to grab it. 

I opened the cabinet under the sink and placed the knife in the back. Upon closing the cabinet door, I began washing my hands. There was only dish soap available, but I still used it. When I finished, I instinctively reached out for the tissues only to find them gone. I wiped my wet hands on my shirt.

The journey back to the living room was a lot easier. A safe path was already made out when I shuffled my way here. I carefully retraced my steps.

From the living room, I once again gently tiptoed over the scattered sheets of paper and made my way to the stairs that led up to the second floor. This was where my room was, I was glad to find the floor leading up to it to be clear of debris. 

I opened the door to my room, it went untouched. Everything was exactly how I left it. I entered my room and locked the door.

I walked up to my desk and took off my backpack. I unzipped it and pulled out the math homework from today’s class. 

The math lesson today was quite difficult. I covered my ears to block out the sounds of my mother crying as I tried to remember what the teacher said. 

I sighed as my tummy rumbled, there was probably not going to be dinner tonight.