Beep beep.
The incessant sound of my alarm rang in my ears, and I screamed internally, Stop! as if I could compel it to do so.
I rolled over to the right side of my bed and reached for my phone to snooze the alarm. My fingers brushed over the phone, and I accidentally knocked it over, causing it to fall.
I expected it to fall in slow motion, but it all happened so fast that I didn't even register what happened, like most of the things in my life.
In the 300 or so milliseconds it takes to blink, you can miss so much.
I grudgingly got out of bed and turned off the alarm. I wanted to get in an extra 30 minutes of sleep, but that clearly wouldn't be happening now.
"Levi," my mom called out to me, "breakfast is ready!"
The thought of breakfast instantly made me perk up, and my stomach grumbled like a whale mating call.
I quickly did my morning routine and hurried downstairs, eager to eat.
When I made it to the kitchen island, I noticed that something was amiss. My mom wasn't there; instead, there was a tall, blonde, model-like person making something on the stove.
"Who . . . who are you?" I asked the lady, confused.
She turned around to give me a sweet, angelic grin. "Hi, sweetie, breakfast is ready." She placed a plate of macaroni and cheese on the table. "I made your favourite: mac and cheese."
I looked at her, confused. "How do you know that mac and cheese is my favourite?"
She turned around again, and her face slowly started to morph, taking on various forms until it finally turned back into her blonde, model-like form.
I backed up, terrified at what I'd just witnessed.
"You need to eat, sweetie. You need strength."
"I-I don't know you," I said while slowly inching away from the lady who looked so much like my mother.
"I'm your mother, silly. Who else would I be?"
Beep beep.
I looked over at my on the nightstand and regarded the time: 8:00 AM.
I felt awfully tired, but I had school, so I reluctantly got out of my bed to brush my teeth. Once I finished, I headed downstairs to eat.
There was food on the table with a note that read: Levi, there's some leftover lasagna from last night, please heat it up and eat it. I'll be home late today, but your father should be here. - Mom
I crumpled the note and threw it in the trash can and walked over to the fridge.
As I was about to open the door, I noticed some pictures on the fridge. It was a picture of me, a black-haired girl around my age, an older bald man, and a blonde, model-like lady.
She was smiling brightly in the picture, and all of us seemed close, yet I couldn't recognize any of them.
My mind went back to the note that I crumpled up earlier. So, I took it out of the trash can and smoothed the wrinkles.
For some reason, I couldn't recognize the handwriting. The handwriting looked neat and perfectly spaced--like a person had typed it up. I felt like it should look more like chicken scratch--like my handwriting.
Beep beep.
I rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes and took note of my surroundings. I couldn't remember where I was, or who I was.
Everything was a muddle of dull colours and distant screaming and yelling.
I tried to get out of bed and noticed that an IV was connected to my hand. I looked at it quizzically like it would suddenly grow a mouth and give me all the answers.
"You're finally up!" someone exclaimed.
I feebly covered my ears. "Too . . . loud . . ."
The person sounded flustered. "Oh, sorry about that," she replied. "Hope I didn't wake you up."
"Where am I?" I asked her.
She peered down at me, and her face got clearer to me. "You're joking, right?"
I shook my head, dead serious.
She tilted her head quizzically. "We're home"
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Home?"
"Home," she repeated. "As in 32 Prescott Drive."
"W-who are you?" I asked, scared.
"I'm Hailey, your sister."
She gave me a look. "Do you seriously not remember anything after the accident?"
I shook my head. "Where's mom?"
As if on cue, a blonde-haired lady walked in. "How're you feeling, hon?"
She looked like the lady from my dreams. "Who . . . who are you?"
She looked at me like I had grown two heads. "I'm your mom."
I didn't recognize her one bit. "I don't remember you."
"It must be because of the accident. Your brain's a little confused, but the doctor said it should clear up with some medicine."
The word "accident" triggered something in me, and suddenly, all my memories came flooding back in a jumble.
My mom was making a left turn and a car came speeding at us. It crashed into us, and the last thing I saw before I went unconscious was a blonde, model-like women peering down at me with beady eyes.
A hand reached out to touch my face. "You'll love your new home and family."
"No!" I screamed, finally realizing what had happened.
