The alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. again.
Mariam groaned and reached out blindly to silence it before it woke the kids. She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, mentally going over the day.
Every day felt like a race she didn’t sign up for.
By 7 a.m., she had already shouted at her 8-year-old son for losing a sock, and argued with her daughter about why she couldn’t have a phone yet. All these happened before she had even brushed her own teeth.
After work, she waited at the bus stop with heavy bags and heavier thoughts. The sun was especially merciless that late afternoon, which made her feel like crying. But she didn’t have the energy.
The lights were out when she got home, so she couldn’t even depend on the washing machine for laundry. Not only that, her daughter greeted her with a list of school needs, and her son had misplaced his water bottle.
Mariam dropped the bags, leaned against the wall, and whispered, ”Let me breathe.”
She wished someone would care enough to ask how she and the kids were doing. Not because they needed something, but show that they are not alone.
But no one ever did.
So she stood back up, wiped her face, and went to prepare dinner for her family.
Thanks for reading. 💕
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