Broom People

I’m beginning to hate this house. I used to love this place. There used to be memories soaked within these walls, if that makes sense; but now it seems as if all those memories have evaporated away, leaving me behind. I can’t remember the last time I laughed here, or even smiled.

This place used to feel like somewhere I could always count on being at least alright, if not comfortable. I mean, there’s always been problems here, but not to this extreme. The house has always been cluttered, it’s always been dusty and dark and gloomy, and nothing has ever worked right. That’s normal. But now, …now is completely different. You know those TV shows about psycho hoarders that are all of a sudden so popular now? Yeah, it looks as bad as that in many places, if not worse. The living room is basically a giant junkyard full of shit that my mother doesn’t need or particularly want. We have to make a path to the goddamn kitchen to get around. The kitchen... don’t even get me started on that.

Lots of beer bottles. Lots of roaches. A hole in the ceiling. What else should I, could I say?

My sister’s room is probably the only sanctuary within the entire house. It’s still a mess, yeah, but a manageable mess. The kind of mess she can almost be safe in.

My brothers’ room is absolute chaotic and organized at the same time. See, my two brothers are almost completely polar opposite in both personality and cleanliness. Chandler’s chaotic as hell. He doesn’t like to clean after himself. Meanwhile, Alec represents order; maybe even to an obsessive degree. He spends a fair amount of time trying to keep everything t completely tidy, but to no avail.

And then there’s my room. Well, I tried to keep it tidy and organized like Alec. But… I think I’ve inherited mom’s compulsive disorganization skills.

I’m becoming just like her. I can hear it in my very voice. I look in the mirror, and in my eyes I see what everyone sees in her eyes: emptiness. Complete emptiness.