Black Room

Expect bored

Heaven and Hell are in the hands of the husband.

****

I woke up in the morning blind with a pot butts that went out in my hand. Last night I fell asleep before I sucked up. I put the pot butts in the ashtray. My BB shows at four in the morning.

I lifted the lid on the dining table after I peed from the bathroom. The fish cob last night is still there. I decided to eat because my stomach was hungry. Maybe because of my hungry stomach I woke up in the morning blind.

Mom came out of her room while I was eating. Her eyes were so puffy, did mom cry again all night? While the father may have run away again as usual after a fight with the mother.

"Tumben, you get up early" said Mom and walked to the bathroom.

I just kept quiet and kept eating. After coming out of the bathroom, she made hot tea and sat down in front of me. No more ten minutes of talk.

"Your father, it seems like he will no longer be coming home to this house" said the mother starting to speak.

I just kept quiet and washed my hands after eating. I wait for my mother's next words.

"Your father says he's sick of living with mom. The thing that you can't understand why she can say that" said the porch mother blowing hot tea with her teary eyes.

"Mom always forgives whenever your father hurts you.."

"Mom, why don't you just get a divorce with daddy" Cut me quick.

Mom looked at me in silence, "You've said that twice, son"

In the past, I also advised my mother to divorce with her father. I think it's better than being together and pitting their egos.

"Well, is it better than the mother continuing to eat the heart in the face of the father's selfishness?" My heart and drink.

My mom always told me about my dad. Maybe because I'm the closest person who made him tell a story. Dad was selfish. I complain about the change in my father every day. The change was like no longer loving my mother.

"Mom doesn't know why your father changed. She's lost and it's hard for me to direct. The world has managed to make his heart and logic blind. But she always forgave and chose to pray that the door of her heart would be opened. That's why I don't talk about anything when your dad gets home"

I'm staying quiet. I feel like I have to get angry in my heart. I had to hear Mom's story, and I was angry to hear the father's story.

"Truly, men are the responsibility of every family. A wife's heaven and hell are in the hands of her husband. Mother always reminded him to return to his square as a servant. But your father was always angry and scolded me every time I told him"

Tears began to fall into my heart. I get angry and hate my father. But I can't do anything and and just hold all that grief in deep.

"Don't go first" said the mother who read my moves, who would step away "Mom knows you hate your father. You don't want to hear stories about him. But you should know all this. And only you can tell me"

I was silent with my back slumped. Mom sipped her hot tea. Steam came out of his cold mouth.

"You are the child most similar to him.  Almost all of your body is a copy of your father. Your attitude and character are almost the same as your father's"

I was disgusted by what my mother said. Indeed, I look like my father. The face, nose, eyes, and skin are all copies of the father. But I was disgusted by that fact because I didn't want to be like a father.

"But I don't want to be like father ma'am" I said

"Mom knows" she replied, sipping her hot tea to the ashes "Start learning from now on so that you don't grow up like your father" Suggested the mother and passed into her room.

I stayed silent at the dinner table. No man knows what he will become someday. There is nothing in this world but death and destiny. And I don't want to be like the father who failed to become the head of the family. Mushola behind my house has declared the dawn sign when dawn has arrived.

"You don't pray at dawn?" Ask the mother who came out of her room complete with a book.

I shook my head and went into the room.

"Either till when will you neglect your duty as a servant" said the mother.

I burned the remaining marijuana butts after the azan had passed. Then drown myself with the words of my mother still ringing in my head. When will I get tired of being human in the dark?