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MidReal Story
The Makers Series
Scenario:His mouth The life of Austin matice in East Durham new York so one day I was sitting in the chair in the living room with my mom and than I was walking to the kitchen and then here came Helen shook running her mouth again and talking and asking if I helped my mom with the house and I know that like always I say yes and I know that my dad was right there and he said that no he was playing video games as always and I looked at him and said I do help with the chores and as always they change the subject like always and then I have my girlfriend Kerry Elizabeth Willenbucher yelling at me about not texting her back so here I am just sitting here between her and the other people in this small town and I am just getting sick of it and I'm not going to take it anymore so it was late that night and I was making coffee and here comes my dad AGAIN runing his mouth and I have not heard from Kerry yet and I know that I'm crazy about it because of the situation and I know that I'm sitting on the couch with my nephews and watching YouTube videos on the TV and I know that I don't have a room when they are here but I know that I'm happy that they are here but it's hard to do any YouTube videos because they are loud and screaming and fighting with each other and I know that I get overwhelmed with this situation and I know that they are kids and I know that I'm just a grown up and I need patience but my mother fucking patient is worn thin and I don't know what the fuck to do with the situation because I don't want drama anymore but everyone is making it difficult
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Austin Matthew Micacek
He is a young man navigating life in East Durham, New York. He is frustrated, overwhelmed, and determined. Austin lives with his mother and frequently helps her with household chores, despite his father's lack of involvement. He has a complicated relationship with his father, who often ignores him. Austin is in a tumultuous relationship with his girlfriend Kerry Elizabeth Willenbucher, with whom he experiences frequent communication conflicts. He struggles to manage his emotions and assertiveness in a challenging family environment.
Austin's Father
He is largely absent from Austin's life due to work in Alaska. He is distant, irresponsible, and seemingly indifferent. The father frequently ignores Austin’s presence, contributing to their strained relationship. His absence leaves Austin feeling unloved and uncertain about his place in the family. Although he occasionally visits when on leave, he fails to provide the emotional support or involvement Austin craves.
Austin's Nephews
They are two rambunctious nephews who frequently visit Austin’s home. They are loud, energetic, and rowdy. The nephews often disrupt Austin's peace and cause chaos when they visit but they also bring some joy and excitement to his otherwise challenging household. Their antics frequently push Austin to the limits of his patience but they provide him with some companionship when he needs it.
I was sitting in the chair in the living room with my mom, and then I was walking to the kitchen, and here comes Helen shook running her mouth again.
"Hey, Austin, did you help your mom with the chores today?"
I said, "Yes."
And I know that like always, she didn’t believe me because she looked at my dad, who was right there and said no.
I said, "I do help with the chores."
They always change the subject.
My dad just sat there and didn’t say anything.
He never sticks up for me.
He never says anything when people ask him questions about me.
He doesn’t care.
He is always working in Alaska and never comes to visit me.
He only comes home when he is on leave from work, but he doesn’t talk to me or even acknowledge that I am there.
He acts like I don’t exist.
He doesn’t even text me or call me to see how I am doing.
My girlfriend Kerry Elizabeth Willenbucher was yelling at me because I didn’t text her back fast enough.
I had just made coffee and was walking back to the living room when my phone went off, and it was her and she was mad at me for not answering her texts fast enough.
I told her I was busy watching my nephews, who were at my house that weekend.
I set my steaming coffee mug on the side table, careful not to spill a drop near Mom's antique coaster collection.
The nephews were wrestling on the carpet, their shouts filling the room as I pulled out my phone.
My hands shook slightly as I typed out a quick message to Kerry: "Sorry, watching the boys today. Been crazy here."
I glanced at Dad, who was still pretending to watch TV but was actually scrolling through his phone.
The message sent with a soft whoosh, but Kerry's response came back almost instantly - three angry-face emojis.
"Why do you always have to make excuses, Austin?" Kerry's voice crackled through the speakerphone, sharp and impatient.
"I'm not making excuses, Kerry," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady as I watched the nephews tumble dangerously close to the coffee table.
"Then why does it feel like I'm always last on your list?" she shot back, her words hitting harder than I'd expected.
My nephews' shouts echoed through the living room as they chased each other around the coffee table, their laughter mingling with Kerry's voice blaring through the phone speaker.
"Why does it take you hours to text me back, Austin? I'm not stupid. I know you have time to play with your nephews, but can't even spare a minute for me?"
I lowered the volume on my phone, pretending to listen to Kerry's rant as I watched the boys knock over a stack of magazines.
The younger one tripped and started crying, and I rushed over to help him up.
Kerry's voice continued in the background, her words becoming a distant hum as I checked my nephew's scraped knee.
My phone buzzed again with more incoming texts from Kerry.
Without thinking, I pressed the mute button and typed out a hasty response: "Emergency with nephews, call you later."
I slipped the phone into my pocket, knowing I'd have to face the fallout later.
I grab the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink, my phone still buzzing with Kerry's messages on the coffee table.
My nephew sniffles as I clean his scraped knee with antiseptic wipes, while his brother hovers nearby, unusually quiet.
The wound isn't deep, but I take my time applying the Band-Aid, smoothing it carefully over his skin.
My hands shake slightly as I pack up the supplies.
I know I can't avoid Kerry much longer.
When my nephew stops crying and returns to playing, I pick up my phone.
"Hey, Austin, are you ignoring me now?" Kerry's voice was sharp, cutting through the noise of the boys' play.
"No, I'm not ignoring you," I replied, trying to keep my frustration in check. "I just had to deal with a little crisis here."
"Well, maybe if you actually prioritized our relationship for once, we wouldn't be having this conversation," she snapped back, her words laced with disappointment.
Her voice grows louder through the phone, listing off all the ways I've failed at communication.
My nephew tugs on my sleeve, showing me his bandaged knee, while his brother crashes toy cars into the couch cushions nearby.
I glance at the clock on the wall - 6:45 PM.
Perfect timing.
I pull the phone away from my ear mid-sentence and say, "Hold on, Kerry, my other line is ringing."
I pretend to switch calls, speaking into the void: "Hello? Yes, this is Austin. What? The evening shift called out?"
I return to Kerry's line, my voice steady: "Sorry, emergency at work. They need me to cover right now."
I'm sitting with my nephews on the couch, still tense from lying to Kerry about work, when the living room goes pitch black.
The TV screen dies mid-YouTube video, cutting off the cartoon music that had been playing on repeat for the past hour.
My younger nephew immediately grabs my arm, his small fingers digging into my skin.
His brother starts whimpering beside us.
I reach for my phone on the coffee table, intending to use it as a makeshift flashlight, but it's dead from all the calls with Kerry.
Through the darkness, I hear something crash in the kitchen - probably one of mom's ceramic plates falling from the dish rack.
"Uncle Austin, is there a ghost?" the older one whispers, his voice trembling slightly.
"No, buddy, it's just a power outage," I assure him, trying to sound braver than I feel.
"But what about the noise in the kitchen?" the younger one asks, eyes wide with fear.
I stare at the dim screen of my phone, the only light in the room coming from Lily's message, which I had left open.
The battery indicator shows 1%.
Another crash from the kitchen makes us all jump, and I know I should go check it out, but the boys won't let go of my arms.
Thunder rumbles outside, making my younger nephew start crying again.
I quickly type back to Lily, asking her to bring flashlights when she comes home.
The battery indicator drops to 2% as I hit send.
I hear footsteps on the front porch, followed by a gentle knock on the door.