Page 1 of Glad You Exist

The familiar blaring of my phone alarm goes off at exactly 5:30 AM, but just like every morning since school started back up, I was awake way before it had a chance to do its job. I swiftly turn it off and throw it in my backpack. I do a quick once over and make sure I have everything. Pausing to check my reflection, I notice that the bags under my eyes are looking like they need to start paying rent with how much space they are taking up on my face.

I sigh, smoothing the skirt of my yellow midi dress, and head downstairs to start breakfast for Mom and go over the week’s grocery list. I heave a sigh at the sight of the mess Mom has left in the kitchen from what looks like another late night spent writing.

I quickly get to work cleaning up before starting on breakfast—and prepping for lunch, while I’m at it. If I don’t make something for her, I’m sure she will just skip it altogether. Again.

An hour later, I run up the stairs and let myself in to Mom’s room, flipping the light switch on as I tentatively sit beside her sleeping figure.

“Mom,” I whisper.

Nothing.

“MOM,” I repeat, a little louder this time, nudging her.

She grunts as she burrows deeper under the covers and I chuckle, knowing I have her attention now. I bend over to pull the blanket off her face, uncovering her down to the waist.

“Mama. I made breakfast.”

She rolls towards me and opens her eyes, adjusting to the light. She offers me a slight smile and a whisper. “Good morning baby. You did my job for me again.”

I shrug noncommittally.

She tilts her head at me as she scoots up to sit, brushing tendrils of hair off to the side of my face. “You could always wake me up earlier, you know? You don’t have to do this every day on top of having to get ready for school.”

I purse my lips and bite back the retort on the tip of my tongue. She could wake herself up and set an alarm, but she never does. It’s a routine that I’m used to. I do what I have to do.

A familiar ache pierces me in the chest. Moments like this make me miss the time when Daniel and Dad still lived with us, pre-divorce.

God, I miss my brother so much.

“I don’t mind, Mom.” I force a smile.

Lying to my mom is something I try never to do, but what else am I supposed to say to that? “Can we eat? I don’t want to be late for school,” I add gently, hoping she will drop it.

She pats my cheek and kisses me on my forehead as she pulls me off the bed with her.

“What’s for breakfast?”

Pulling on her robe, she leads the way out of her room and down the stairs.

“Tocino, eggs and fried rice.” Her favorite.

She claps giddily as she sits down at the little round table we have in our kitchen and helps herself to the Filipino-style breakfast I made for us.

I brace myself for what’s to come.

“Do you want me to take you to school today, or are you okay to drive?”

Yup, there it is.

Like clockwork she asks me the same thing, like she’s done every day since freshman year.

I resist the urge to sigh as I feed myself a spoonful of fried egg to delay answering her.

I can never put anything past my mom, even when her mind was still half asleep, she always sees past my airs. It’s always better to keep my answers simple.

“I’m good enough to drive.” I lift a shoulder.

There’s a crease between her eyebrows. Telltale sign, she’s not buying my attempts.

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