Ena - Dangerous Dances
The microwave beeped loudly five times - breaking the still air in the kitchen. Ena got up, heading over to the counter as she opened the microwave door, lifting the ceramic bowl carefully and carrying it back to the table.
Methodically, she took down the cereal box from the top of the refrigerator and helped herself to some Cheerios. This was Ena's daily routine on the weekdays; wake up in the early morning, try not to make any noise as to wake Grandma Josephine up and to slip herself out of the house.
She'd been living by this for the past four years. At first, she'd hated it. She hadn't been used to a life with a grandmother who'd yell at her when she saw even a speck of dust on the kitchen table; or when Ena opened the room door with the slightest creak that would wake her grandmother up in the opposite room.
She had the hearing of a bat, and a voice that you wouldn't expect to hear from a seventy-five year old woman. When she yelled, she'd let the whole world know what was going on, they would hear all of it. Ena had first found it humiliating, walking out her house to see her neighbors watching her with pitiful expressions. But now - it was just another figment of her dreadful life.