I Felt a Funeral in My Brain inspired short story

After I got back from the field, I walked inside my trailer and went to my bedroom. I could hear my dad coughing in my parents’ room. He wasn’t getting up. Him and my mom would probably be in bed until lunch time. I shut the lightweight hollow door to my room and crawled back inside my bed. It wasn’t comfy. The box-spring mattress creaked underneath me. I pulled my blanket back over me, a worn, stained, scraggly little thing that began to stick to my dew-covered legs as soon as I let it settle. Tough balls of lent were permanently stuck to it. It was much brighter in my room at that moment than when I left it to go to the field. I was restless, but I laid there and stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep again.
“Carly. Carly get up.” My mother was standin’ in the doorway of my room lookin’ down at me. She was wearing her usual tight blue mom-jeans, the kind that show off her child-bearing hips. Not that she was pregnant or anything, it was just that me and my little sister had left an impression on her. I pried my eyes open and lifted my head from my pillow to look at her, a line of drool briefly stretching from my cheek to the pillow before snapping in half.
“What?” I croaked. My throat was dry with morning breath.
“I’m going in town to the market, do you wanna go with me?” Above her mom-jeans, she wore a t-shirt that was supposed to be white but was stained yellow with years of sweat and country. A faded Rebel flag was printed on the back of it. She had probably bought it from the same market she was about to go to back in the day. Usually I would be more than happy to get away from the house and go to the market with her, but I just wasn’t feeling up to it that morning.


I will continue this from here...