Jessica Greenlief

Washing Clean Dishes

I woke up to the sound of the weatherman on my radio alarm clock giving a very static ridden forecast for another hot summer day. I quickly got dressed and tiptoed through the house passing my alcoholic bipolar step father asleep on the couch in the living room. He was experiencing his depressive state, so we knew to be extra quiet and cautious as to not upset him. I could see my younger brothers quietly snoozing as I tip toed past their bedroom, and I smiled with excitement. Today I did not have to cook them breakfast and keep them quiet so their father could sleep off his late night drunken outbursts. Almost to the door, I could hear my mother snoring from her bedroom. She worked night shift at a local nursing home so she slept during the day. A shadow of the woman she used to be, my mother was severely depressed living in a marriage that was falling apart and the hopelessness consumed her.