I shut the car door, running into my house before the cold rushed into the bones of my body. It was dark, the digital clock on our oven stated that is was 10:11 pm. I sighed hanging my coat on a hanger in the hallway and staring at the mess in the kitchen. Not all of it was my mess. Bread crumbs and wrappers laid on the oven top where my brother had made a sandwich earlier that day. More crumbs laid near our fruit basket and a couple of dirty knives laid beside it. The dinner table had basically became a place where my family just dumped whatever items they wanted on it. I walked upstairs to my bedroom past our living room that was littered with dirty glasses, with used tissues on the coach, dirty paper towels and magazines that I can almost guarantee my family never read. I walked past my brothers room when I made it upstairs, his floor was covered in clothes and wrappers. He probably had more clothes than my mom and dad combined. His nightstand had a dirty plate and a bucket of finished ice cream. I closed his door so our dog wouldn’t eat one of the wrappers and choke on it.
When I reach my room, I set my string bag on top of my laundry basket. The filter to my small fish tank hummed on top of my dresser. My bed was made, my trash can had a new trash bag in it. My books put neatly on the bookshelf that connected to my desk. My floor only had a few pairs shoes -which I put in my closet as soon as I got home. Only a few index cards cluttered my desk, but every few days I would trash some and keep the ones I thought were important to me. The corner of my room had a trash bag full of clothes I planned to get rid of soon. I plopped beside my bed and scrolled through my phone. Wondering why my family let things go so far and why they never really got on my brother for not doing his part when it came to chores.
After a few minutes of checking social media, I made my way to the bathroom I shared with my brother. I had to unfold the bathroom curtain for the fourth time that week. He knows its get moldy if he doesn’t put it back, why is it so hard for him to do something that should only take three seconds? I brushed my teeth over the nearly spotless white counter top that I cleaned whenever it got dirty. The toilet was supposed to be my brothers job to clean, however, I eventually ended up doing it and despite my parents knowing this they didn’t seem to care at all. My lips made a fine line in mirror when I left the bathroom.
When I got back to my room I looked up how much living expenses were and how much money I would need to move out. When I realized that even though I had saved plenty of money, I just wasn’t getting paid enough and the expenses would eventually catch up to me. I starred at my computer for a few minutes, I felt defeated, but I was tired of putting up with my family.
So I started making a list of things I would have to do to get out of the house.
Prompt: Write about a character who felt defeated.