Chapter 1: ✴I LABELED IT AS ORDINARY✴

"Rohama! Rohama!"

My hands desperately fumbled around my bed for a pillow to cover my head. However, I wasn't able to grab one. All of it must be on the floor since I slept like a baby changing position every minute.

The banging continued. It appears like the one knocking aimed to bust my door. It didn't take long when my mom's face materialized in my mind like a hologram screaming my name.

The heck!

"Rohama!"

The yell was longer than the first one, indicating her annoyance and a warning saying the words: move your butt, lazybone.

I jolted out of the bed, and with eyes still half-closed swung the door open. Lailanie, my mom, stood firm with her plump body facing me directly. Her gaze scrutinized my whole being, like I'm some kind of report material for a thesis.

Jeez! It was so early in the morning. Bet the sun was still warming up to rise.

"Yes, mom?" I managed, suppressing a yawn. My body still ached for sleep. My eyes were tired as well. I glanced at my bed, and it was shining, alluring me to get back and . . .

"Do you know what time is it?" The high-pitched tone roused my somnolent soul making me face her, attentively.

Her pearl-shaped face glowered and the thin brow arched. I hemmed, preparing an excuse to mollify her annoyance.

"Mom, It is not healthy to shout at your daughter especially when the day has just begun. Don't you know that according to the study by psychiatrists at a hospital affiliated to Harvard Medical School, shouting can significantly and permanently alter the structure of the child's brain?" I asked. Some articles were really useful at times like this. But she wasn't really bawling, it was merely a reminder whom I labeled as a lecture just to put up an alibi for myself. I exactly knew why she's here and it's not something I like.

Her expression remained the same, making me realize that my attempt was futile. Uh, be dramatic, Rohama. I wish I can, but I had troubles vocalizing my emotions.

The light brown orbs settled on mine, she stayed still while I groped for words. My mind couldn't save me now. Where was it when I needed it the most? I grinned awkwardly.

"I was asking you about the time. Shouldn't you be taking a shower now?" she asked.

It was the moment where my smile faded away. It's Monday. I have a class but rather than feeling excited about it, I'm more upset that I had to drag myself into that miserable place five times a week. Imagine the torture? Why do I have to be there when I can learn all those things through reading?

"Mom, can I not go today? I'm not feeling well."

Certainly I'm not. Every single day spent there made me sick, more than a stomachache kind of illness. Was it mentally? Was I a troubled kid then? No doubts about it.

"You said that a week ago," mom replied. Her eyes squinted. Did I? One thing I suck at? Lying. I couldn't keep a story straight.

"Young lady, before I think of doing something you wouldn't like, you better get ready. You haven't even finish high school and yet you are too lazy to study? What will you become in the future?" she scolded. Yeah, my mom prioritize education so much. She would scratch everything she had just to send us to school. She has no degree herself, and only an elementary graduate.

Yet, she was a strong and great woman.

Being a single parent was difficult. But no matter how toilsome raising two kids, with only selling vegetables at the market as a means of living was, I never heard her complain.

I had vague memories of my dad. He left a long time ago, since I was a kid. I think I'm around three? I don't care. I considered him dead anyway.

I heaved a sigh and said, "I'm not in the mood to go. I'm tired, my body wants rest. Besides, brilliant people tend to be lazy because they would rather spend much time thinking than doing."

It won't hurt to try again. She might had a change of heart and allow me to skip class instead. A day of felicity it will be, I got to miss seeing my classmates.

My eyelashes batted dally, as if a weight was being added to it. I'm drowsy. It was already one in the morning when I rested my eyes from reading. The book Selfish Gene written by Richard Dawkins caught my attention.

It was a hobby of mine to read good books. A day wouldn't be complete with out it. I had borrowed almost everything at the library and usually takes time before returning it. More likely after reading it four to five times.

The only materials left there was about spirits and mythical creatures, those sort of things which never piqued my interest.

Simply because, they don't exist. That will add no value to reality; unuseful in daily endeavors.

"Don't give me that excuse, Rohama. I really don't understand why you'd rather seclude yourself and hide in your room for the rest of the day. Your skin needs sun and more than that, you need to learn. Fix yourself and get down for breakfast," she stated with finality. I stopped myself from groaning. The hardest one to convince was always this lady infront of me. I stood straight giving her a beseeching look. At the age of eighteen, I was taller than her with my height reaching five feet and six.

"You can't win me with that face," she added, slightly tilting her head.

"Tsk, I'm dead serious mom, newest research came from Florida Gulf Coast University. People like us do little physical effort because we are bound to think and not to do. Kidding, the last sentence is just a joke but believe me mom," I pleaded.

I disliked school. There was nothing in it to stimulate enthusiasm in me. I don't have friends as well. The fact that I'm a transferee was not the only reason why, they just don't like me.

However, my life wasn't that miserable. I had a family who loved me so much.

"I'm not buying any of it." She then turned her back and marched down the stair, giving me no chance to retaliate.

Her footsteps made a loud noise, reminding me of a heavy rainful hitting our small roof, and which I often wish to come. Simply because, that would mean suspension of classes.

I let out a sigh a couple of times. That left me with no choice. It became harder each day to convince myself that everything was fine.

I scanned my room and found it a mess. My rectangular bed was still in place, such a relief. But my pillow were scattered everywhere, felt like a hurricane had passed through it.

The small window beside my bed was still open. I must had forgotten closing it last night.

I walked towards my closet just a few inches away from my bed. I don't want to go. Another deep breath. This was always my scenario every weekdays. The time passed slowly during that period while it came like flash of light every weekends. How unfair was that?

I took my towel and necessary things, and just before I left, I sighted my reflection at the mirror beside my door.

My long black hair that reached the middle part of my back was tousled, visualizing a picture of a lady in horror movies. I'm just fortunate having a pointed nose with upward eyes and thin lips. My fair skin wasn't that attractive but wasn't bad either. I smiled, the image did the same.

My, don't I look pretty beaming? But only my mom and older brother can see that. I seldom talk to people. I just don't feel like doing so. Or was it the other way around? Maybe both.

My mind begun to think of many things again, travelling somewhere else and then recalling some events that had happened. Mostly, the memories which made me avoid people. The pattern was repetitive.

I smiled bitterly and threw a glance at the window side upon hearing a small voice calling softly. But no one was there. Weird.

I went out of my room and headed to the bathroom instead.

My left foot was about to step inside but a scent made me stop, it came from the kitchen.

"Mom! Noodles again?" I shouted. "You knew that wasn't healthy. It has high level of sodium and a bunch of additives!"

I'm positive she heard that. Our home was a small house consisting of two rooms up which was occupied by my brother and me. My mom's room was at the first floor, beside the dining area. That means, a scream was enough to let someone hear your statement.

And just as what I expected, her answer came like a bomb falling at once. I couldn't even take a grasp of some words she dropped. I chuckled. My mom sure loved scolding us.