Lunar Whispers

Lilith Lockwood

My mother's voice, sharp and insistent, echoed from downstairs waking me here.

"Lilith! Wake up, dear! It's time for a new day!"

I groaned, my half-asleep mind protesting the intrusion of morning. But I couldn't ignore her call, not when she had such a commanding presence. She was the heart and soul of our family, the alpha in her own right.

Rolling out of bed, I slipped into a soft pair of slippers and padded down the creaky old staircase. At the foot of the stairs, my father sat in his armchair, engrossed in the morning newspaper. He glanced up as I approached.

"Morning, Dad," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

"Morning, my little moonbeam," he chuckled, setting the newspaper aside. My father's fondness for nicknames was legendary in our family. "You're just in time to witness the morning show."

I raised an eyebrow in response. "Morning show? What's going on?"

Before he could answer, the air was split by another shout from my mother, this one even more ear-piercing than the first. My father and I shared an amused glance.

"That's your cue," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Time to face the morning hurricane."

I grinned and made my way into the kitchen. There, I found my mother, her fiery hair pulled back into a messy bun, wielding a wooden spoon like a weapon. She was a force to be reckoned with, even in her pajamas.

"Late as usual, Lilith, Where the hell is Damien?" she scolded with a playful glint in her eyes.

I laughed and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Morning, Mom. What's got you in such a whirlwind this early?"

She waved the wooden spoon dismissively. "Just the usual chaos of trying to get this family moving. Your father's been no help, as usual."

My father appeared in the doorway, a grin on his face. "Now, now, dear. You know I'm utterly useless before my morning coffee."

My mother and I shared a knowing look, and we couldn't help but laugh. Despite his grumbling, Dad was always ready with a smile.

Our playfully scolding banter was interrupted by the sound of my mother's laughter. She had that mischievous twinkle in her eye again as she picked up a wooden stick from the countertop.

"Now, Lilith, how about we give your father a wake-up call he won't soon forget?" she suggested, brandishing the stick.

I glanced at my father, whose eyes widened in mock terror. "You wouldn't dare"

But my mother was already lunging toward him with the stick in hand, and with a yelp, Dad leaped out of the way, the chase was on. They darted around the kitchen, laughing like teenagers as my mother gave chase and my father danced just out of her reach.

I couldn't help but join in on the fun. I grabbed another stick and playfully swatted at my father's retreating form. We ran in circles around the kitchen, our laughter filling the room.