Jason, Marvin and Trina's eleven-year-old son was also sat at the table. Jason was eating his pancakes, he wasn't good with being social because of his autism and eye-contact with him rarely happened.

Trina's day had already had a stressful start. She was always overwhelmed, always doing absolutely everything around the house, some stuff were tasks that both her and Marvin were supposed to split equally, but ofcourse that didn't happen.

Jason had threw a tantrum over not wanting to eat breakfast at the dinner table, then he threw his plate (which Trina had to clean up) and now Marvin wasn't even speaking to her. Great. Just great.

As usual, Trina was making her breakfast last. She always put other people's needs before her own, sometimes because of her caring nature and other times because she didn't have the time to do anything for herself. Trina let out an exasperated sigh, she was already exhausted at 8:00AM. Trina was thinking of making herself breakfast too, but at this rate she'd probably not have the time to.

Trina managed to pick up the broken shards of the white porcelain plate that Jason had thrown across the room. She gently out them into the bin. She let out a sigh as Jason came back into the room, sitting at the dining table. She cleared her throat, quickly going back to preparing her breakfast.

"So," she began, the tense, quiet atmosphere being broken by her words and the sizzling of the saucepan while she prepared pancakes, "Marvin, darling. Everything alright?.." she asked, particularly trying to get her husband to be somewhat civil with her. She just wanted to feel loved. To feel fulfilled and cared for. But she didn't get that, she never got that from her husband. Trina paused, waiting for a reply. Maybe he'd be sweet to her, maybe he'd look up from that fucking newspaper and smile at her. Maybe.