Garbage

"Timothy!" The shout shooting the boy awake, following with a glance around the room. The boy's mother, standing at the door, an individual looking into this family's home would expect her to be enraged. However, this is just how she was, and Timothy knew that.

"I've been calling you for 10 minutes, your food is getting cold." Yes, she tended to be much more dramatic. Always worrying about food getting cold, at least that's what it would feel like to a 12-year-old boy. As any son would do, he stood up and headed for the dining room.  While passing by, the boy's father was sitting in the living room, spread out on the couch. He had watched the news all night, discussing the dramas of the world or something. It really annoyed Timothy that his father prefers to watch two people yelling about the trades of two countries rather than coming and sitting with the family, even if it was a small family.

When arriving at the table, he sat down with a nice plate of chicken and broccoli. One of those, "My son hates broccoli, so I'm forcing him to eat it." Type of ordeals, which always put a disgusted look on his face. Using the fork to slightly push the broccoli away and then proceeding to dig into the chicken, glazed with a nice sweet and sour sauce. 

"I'm telling you, Astrid, there's some fishy going on with China and Russia, something they're not telling America." The father yelled from the other room while sipping on a Diet Coke, y' know, for healthy people. 

"You watch too much of that garbage" she responded with a tired tone, the two always fought. It wasn't really working out with them, Timothy's dad being without a job for three months and all really isn't helping.  Timothy's mother is probably one of the hardest working people anyone would meet, pulling two jobs and double shifts just to feed this family.

"Dad's really obsessed with China, isn't he ma?" 

Noticing the son now pitching into the conversation she nodded to answer his question, "Now be quiet and keep eat-" a smash of the window than caves in, spraying on Timothy's father, "Hey!" He stood up brushing his clothing off and cutting the tip of his finger, "Dammit!" 

Quickly the mother yelled, "Hey! Mouth! Timothy is still in the kitchen!" I don't think she really understood what happened. 

With a quick growl and a glance, "Someone smashed our window' and you're worried about what cuss words come out of my mouth?" He approached the window and looked outside. Now, I wish I could tell you that these were just some kids that were throwing rocks at each other and on accident broke Timothy's window. But, that's not what his father was seeing. With a blast of flames coming through the window and a screech of pain coming from Timothy's father. The father's face, being hit with those flames.

With the father proceeding to pat out his own face from the flames, the mother approached slowly seeing people outside attacking each other with homemade bombs. Made of alcohol bottles and rags, "Jason! Are you okay?" She asked urgently.

 Looking over with charred skin, the father looked furious, "Do I look okay? It's absolute war out there and my losing feeling to my face!" The mother was about the speak before the screen of the television switched to blue, sounding the national alert and clipping back to a news network, "Everyone is under total lockdown, get as low into you homes as possible, we are in nuclear warf-" however before the video finished, the television cut due to what appeared to be an explosion. Timothy ran out of their kitchen, leaving his plate with only a few bites more, "Mom! What's happening?" the young boy being frazzled from so much happening is such a short amount of time.

While this may sound like the end of our story, this is only the beginning. For the mother didn't have enough time to answer the boy's question without being interrupted by a bright light coming from the sky, and that was the end of Timothy's family, maybe what the father was watching wasn't garbage,