Chapter 1: Are You Really You?
The room felt warmer. Safer. More comfortable. With gentle movement, I dragged my hand to various directions on the bed until my fingertips made contact with the cold temples of my glasses. Eyes still sealed as I place them into their designated place. I feel myself shiver slightly with shock which was soon overtook by pure joy as I heard the faint footsteps of what appeared to be my mother.
″Chris, Sweetie, Its time to wake up...″
I flutter open my eyes ever so slightly but ended up wincing from the feeling of my eyes being exposed to the bright lights that had illuminated the room. Squinting eyes reopen and travel towards the direction of my mother. My eyes shot open in such a quick motion that it hurt. My Mother, Chris Hayes’ Mother, Chloe Hayes, stood in front of the ajar door in a beautiful baby blue button up tucked into a pair of white jeans with her long copper brown hair tied up in a waterfall braid with a few strands curtaining her forehead. You might wonder why this left me aghast . Well, my mother is an elementary school teacher hence she has to get up really early, and honestly she’s just like me. How we dress has never mattered to us and, on very rare occasions, we might just put a little effort into our appearance. Mom usually had her hair in a bun as her eye bags seemed to be sinking down further and further each passing day, however, She looked stunning at that very moment .
″Mom..?″
My voice sounded unsure, alerting my Mom, as she approached the bed, ″Yes?″ her slow and gentle voice had sounded worried which made me feel slightly guilty. I decided I could figure this out later as I made the slightest motion towards sitting up. Guilt was soon replaced with joy. The joy of seeing my mom, healthy and happy. The corner of my lips slightly tugged upwards as I spoke, voice husky from sleep, ″Good morning..″
″It’s half past twelve.″ My mother returned with a slightly raised eyebrow.
Wait...
″HALF PAST TWELVE! MOM! YOU’RE LATE FOR WORK!″
″Sweetie, it’s Sunday. Plus I work the four o’clock shift..″ she blurted out as her calloused palm hesitantly rested on my forehead as I laid back down. ″I made breakfast. You should get up soon.″
Mom was already out the door in less than a second. I raised myself up, letting my feet dangle off the bed when I realized,
″This isn’t my room...″
I jerked off the bed as I made my way over to a door that seemed to lead to the bathroom. the cold tiles hit my bare feet sending a shiver down my spine. My mind battled a dilemma in search of an answer, anything logical. To no avail, might I add. Putting aside my glasses, I hastily rubbed my face with warm water and just then when I thought it couldn’t get worse, I saw my reflection. As comedic as it sounds, believe me when I tell you I looked different. Like a different person. The running warm water seeped into my shirt. My legs felt like noodles. My arms weak. My throat dry. ″What is going on...″ exiting the bathroom, i decide its best not to question it for now. Mom had always disliked getting questioned, especially infront of Dad. I make my way through the halls, soon recognizing the house but not being able to pinpoint how, and the staircase then I entered the kitchen. Upon reaching there I realized someone was missing. ″Mom, Where’s Dad?″
″He’s in the lounge″ Mom replied nonchalantly.
Maybe Dad knows what’s going on. Dad always knew what to do. After a bit of struggle to reach the destination, I enter the lounge that seems to be lacking the presence of a certain father. Uncle Miles was there so I bid him a brief ‘Good Afternoon’ before returning to the kitchen once more.
″He’s not there.″ I state to Mom.
″What do you mean? He’s right there.″ Mom looks at me with concern in her eyes.
″Honey! could you come here for a second?″ Mom spoke once again in a slightly louder tone. Soon soft footsteps could be heard followed by a very slow and Husky ″Yes″. Glancing in that direction I could tell that it’s not dad but with the confidence between Mom and Uncle Miles I knew that this wasn’t a joke or a prank. Soon, I felt the eyes that were lingering on me. Pushing back all the questions, I look up at him and smile weakly in his direction, ″Never mind″. The voice sounded very weak, even to me. But that’s what I was. Weak and helpless. Uncle Miles and Mom exchanged a eerie look as we sit down to eat.
