Knives

The warm bed beneath me was so comfortable, makes me wanna sleep an hour more. But I heard mom yelling from downstairs, asking me to get ready for school. I pulled off the sheet, and got up on my knees. Trying to relax my muscles, stretch my legs. I hear mom yell, “Ronny! Are you out of the bed?” I didn’t have to answer that. I’ve been hearing her shout for the past five minutes. The bathroom is already open and the bucket is full. Hot water. It’s winter. I had my bath in few minutes and got dressed up. I smell gravy. Food in school is getting worse every day, so I’m taking food from home.

I got out of my room and close the door behind me. As I was doing that, I saw Harry. My brother. He’s playing with knives again.

“Hey, Harry? Didn’t mom say not to...”

He ran away before I could reach him. Downstairs. Mom is downstairs, maybe she’ll take care of it. I walked down the stairs slowly, eager about the scene that’s going to happen. Harry’s been caught with knife in his hand a lot of times and mom would scold him. It’s a pretty sight. It’s not like I’m proud of enjoying it. Just a little bit. But I heard nothing. It was a bit weird. Did he try to slip through her and keep the knife from where he took? Maybe. I won’t be able to convince mom that he was playing with a knife. Not worth a try. I saw dad and Harry in the dining area.

Wait, something’s wrong. It seems like... they have a... knife... holding in their hands. Both of them. Like a glue. And mom... shit, she’s holding a knife too. In case, I look at my hands to see if I’m holding one and this turn out to be a nightmare. But it’s not. It’s real. What I’m seeing is real.

“Mom?” I call out to her, to check if she can hear me.

“Yes, honey? Come have breakfast with us.”

Yes she can hear me.

Wait, something’s weird. She never calls me honey. Everything is wrong today. We haven’t had breakfast together in years, not since that incident. First thing I notice is, mom is wearing pyjamas, and it’s not that weird at all. But when it comes to my mom, she doesn’t have any pyjamas. Unless dad drove to the shop early in the morning to buy her one.

“Honey? Are you alright?” She asks, with a wide scary smile.

She broke the uncomfortable silence. I stop thinking and slowly made my way to the dinner table and sat with them, still having my eyes locked on dad and Harry.

“Mom, what’s happening?” I asked, with a confused look in my face.

Dad looks up from his plate and at me, “What?”

They’re behaving like nothing is weird... or odd.

“Why are you acting weird? And why Harry still holding the knife? And mom and dad... why are YOU holding a knife?”

“Honey!... if you want one, ask!” She pulls one knife halfway from the stand, wishing I may ask for one.

“No! I don’t want to hold a knife... what the hell is...”

“Just, eat... and leave.” She says, and she sounds mean. She puts the knife back in.

I didn’t want to eat. Harry gave me an evil look as I carried my bag and walked out. Even dad and mom froze and gave me this chilling look, as I left. It was so weird. Are they playing a prank on me or something? Maybe there’s a camera around. I don’t know. It’s too weird.

There’s the bum I greet everyday in the morning, just before I get into the bus. He’s sitting by the edge of the road and turns to me once he hears my footsteps. I even saw the bus coming from far away, slowly. The bum gets up, smiling... and holding a knife in his hand. He runs towards me...

I froze. Couldn’t move.

He stabs me.

I woke up, gasping. I’m on by bed... in my room. It’s not 7:30 yet. I knew it was a dream. How weird dreams could get. I smiled at myself for being so stupid thinking it is actually happening. The same words mom said when I was in the dream came from downstairs, “Ronny! Are you awake?” Which was a little weird, but it happens. I went into the bathroom, only to find cold water and not hot, like from the dream. This one helped me breathe easily, the thought that this isn’t another dream. I remember mom saying that the heater needs to be fixed. I had bath and dressed up. I opened the door and stepped out of my room.

That’s when I saw Harry coming out of his room... with a knife in his hand.

“Hey...”

He drops the knife on the floor and runs downstairs. For a moment, I thought it was happening. Really. I’m crazy today. I picked up the knife and walked downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen, and I could hear crying noises. It’s definitely Harry. He’s crying. Did she find out he’s being playing with knife again?

I reached the end of the stairs, only to find mom... leaning over, handing out a knife to Harry. And he stops crying.

I froze and looked at my hand, the knife I’m holding right now. I couldn’t...

IT STUCK!