Ray lay on the bed comfortably. His duvet was wrapped around his chin, his muscles felt relaxed and his warm pillow fitted snugly under his head. But the gash of sunlight leaking between the curtains was tormenting him. He pulled the duvet over his head and tried to go back to sleep as the front door banged. That must be his mother coming home from work. Ray hated his mother's job as a waitress at the bar a few streets down, serving drinks to perverted old men who would try to get their hands all over her and worse, his mother flirted shamelessly with them. Ray had pleaded with her to quit that disgusting job but all she said was,
"Well, then tell me, who's going to keep the food on the table? Go whine to your father. His wife's driving round in a new Mercedes, while I'm left with nothing but one useless, empty credit card!"
That shut Ray up.
He had grown to realise that his dad was a total shit. His mum was putting in a ton of overtime just to keep their heads above water. As much as he hated that job, he had to accept it was difficult to find another job with a higher pay with his mother's low education and plus, the job paid well with the generous tips his mother received from the dirty men drinking at the bar.
Ray heard the sound of running water in the bathroom and waited for the familiar sound of his mother's footsteps retreating into the bedroom followed a banging door before he got up. He was not in the mood to face her; things were awkward between them ever since he was expelled from his school a month ago. Even though she stopped lecturing him,