Character conflict intro

As the sun peeled into our bedroom, I felt the unfamiliar movements underneath my tightened skin. The crisp white sheets I preferred looked blue underneath its glare. I looked up at the clock on the armoire and noticed it was five am, the time when witches ran for cover and the angels assumed their defending position. Growing up with an over religious mother I’d learn to rise with the sun and pray to the silent God. My mother would stand over my sister and me teaching us how to act in public, amongst friends and strangers, at restaurants, socials to make sure we knew proper etiquette. She would place her right gloved hand on the middle of my back and with her left hand, pressed my shoulders down, “When you walk, stand or sit down, push your chest out and drop your shoulders” she would say in the sweetest voice. My mother walked as straight as a board. She walked as if she were a puppet on a string being led by a straight cord from her head to her toes down the middle of her back. I remember she smelled like sweet peaches when her thick air floated through our house. Mom slept in rollers and make-up. Before bed time, she would say while tying here dark hair in pink rollers, “The good Lord will not call me home and find me unprepared.” I never understood what she meant when she said things like, “Clean hands and a pure heart, got to have a flawless face and groomed hair” but figured she meant well. I pictured her standing at heaven’s golden gates harps twinkling praises and giant angels awaiting Sister Mom. The good Lord waiting for her while she primped and puckered her shiny lips. Mom never wore any color on her lips, she said if God wanted her to have red, pink or purple lips he would have painted them at birth and since he didn’t, all she needed was to have them shiny so people wouldn’t think she was a chapped lip heathen. I watched my mother take care of my father as if he were her king. I tried to be like her and do for Craig all that I knew how to do, but it didn’t seem to work.