Chapter Ten
Battle Magic
I usually wake up to a gentle shake from my mother or father. Even on the weekends, they would still give me that light shake signifying it was time to wake up and start a new day. Granted, sometimes they would both be busy, and I would wake up on my own. Wich wasn't something that would usually frighten me, but today when I woke up, something felt off. Neither my mother nor father was by my side to wake me.
Gradually I slipped out of the warm embrace of the blankets on my bed that I had the audacity to call bed sheets. In a manner that wasn't exactly stealthy, but not in a graceless way that was bound to make a lot of noise, I stepped down from my bed to the floor. All of a sudden, I was extremely aware of my surroundings. I could feel the permeating cold of the wooden planks under my feet. I could feel the rustle of my pants around the bottom halves of my legs; the only thing missing was sound.
It was like someone had turned down the volume of the things happening outside of my body... Or was it that they had just turned down the noise on the entire world itself? The one thing I could hear was the blood pumping behind my temples, the subtle sound of my joints moving, and the subtle pops that come from them after a night's rest.
Thinking back on it, there was one other time that this had happened, except it wasn't here on Arak. It was back on Earth. I had woken up in a similar manner. I was seventeen, almost eighteen, at the time, so I usually woke up to an alarm that played one of my favorite rock songs. It wasn't so loud that it would scare me awake. Still, it was enough that I would wake up and stay awake, except this day I woke up well before my alarm to the same feeling of being hyperaware of my surroundings and the defining sound of blood pumping in my head.
On Earth, that feeling only lasted for a few minutes while I began to get ready for the day. I had gotten out of my bed and made my way to the kitchen for a nice warm cup of coffee and something to eat for breakfast. That morning while I was initially planning to only make some food for myself, I decided that I would also make some pancaked for the rest of my family, seeing that it was the weekend and we were looking forward to spending some family time together.
I was always quite a good cook, ranging from making things for dinner, lunch, and breakfast to making weird side dishes. But that day. That day I think I made the best blueberry pancakes that I had ever made. The inside was perfect. It was the correct amount of fluffy without any burn on the outside. Even the blueberry had been cooked perfectly, not too soft where they felt like eating mush, but not too stiff where it was like you were eating a normal blueberry. It will be a meal that I will never forget, from the way it tasted to our conversations while the four of us were eating. There were two reasons for this, the most important being what happened after the meal was finished. My parents and brother had left the house for a shopping trip to buy my little brother some new shoes.
It seemed like it would be a normal forty-five minute shopping trip. A quick trip up to the local shoe store. Even after they left, all had seemed normal up until some point. I had been straightening up my room when all of a sudden, I felt off. It wasn't some crazy feeling where I immediately knew what had happened. It was just a small inkling in the back of my mind. After around an hour had passed, the feeling was getting slightly worse, and I wasn't growing concerned per se, but it was odd that my parents and brother weren't home yet. After all, the store they were going to was only around ten minutes away from the house, and they couldn't have spent that long looking for one pair of shoes.
It wasn't till around two hours later when I had woken up from a nap to knocking on my front door, that I realized how off it was that they were still away from the house. Gradually I made my way up off the couch, feeling the cold embrace of the floor on my feet for the second time today.
Gracelessly I made my way to the door, still sluggish from my early morning nap. I tried to peek through the warped glass of the door while I was walking to it, thinking of who would be visiting at nine o'clock in the morning, not to mention it was a Sunday, that's supposed to be the lazy day of the weekend where you sit around and feel bad because you 'wasted the day.'
Realizing that there was no hope of recognizing the person on the other side of the glass and finally making it to the door, I flicked open the large bronze deadbolt and opened the door only to be greeted by a police officer holding his cap above his heart.
Seeing the officer, my heart skip a beat even though I had done nothing wrong. I was curious but also scared why there was a police officer at my house, but before I could even think of a question to ask or pleasantries to exchange, the officer spoke.
In a somber tone, the officer said, "Hello is it safe to assume that you are mister Josh Willtek?"
Confused and slightly scared, I responded, "Uhmm ye-yeah I'm Josh. Why I didn't do something wrong did I?"
"No, no, you're not in trouble, but you may want to step out to the patio and have a seat on the step or on the bench out here," the officer said in a more constricted tone, almost like he was holding back his emotions.
Still confused and not wanting to disobey a police officer, I made my way to the patio step as he moved back to let me sit down. Before he started talking again, he sat down on the concrete in front of me before saying, "Before I even start, I would like to ask you if you have any close family members in the area outside of your direct family."
I sat there and stared at the officer for a slight moment before answering, wondering why he would need to know that. Disregarding my confusion, I responded to the officer, saying, "I have people like aunts and uncles, but they all live over in Tokyo. My parents moved over to the states before I was born."
Switching from somber to a solid mix of confused and melancholic the officer said, "Well, that definitely complicates things."
Now thoroughly confused, I asked, "How does that 'complicate' things?" stressing the word complicate.
"Well, this is by no means how I planned on this conversation going, and I'm sorry that I have to tell you like this- hell, I'm sorry that I have to tell you this at all, but earlier today at eight thirty-six your parents and what appears to be you little brother were killed in a motor vehicle accident alongside two others in the car that was responsible for the collision."
Snapping back to the present and out of my tragic memories of the day that accompanied my current unease, I dashed to my closet to put on clothes as quickly as possible. If the feeling that I had right now served as some warning like it had back on Earth, I needed to make sure my parents were ok.
I couldn't bear it. I couldn't let it happen again. I needed to make sure that they were ok.
After struggling to put on a proper pair of pants because of the dread creeping its way into my every move, I sprinted across the hall and burst through my parents' door. I felt the air move out of the way as I slammed the door aside. I felt the slight vibrations the door handle made when I turned it. All of that, but I was still unable to hear the door slam into the wall behind me as I searched my parents' room, hoping that they were still in bed, asleep.
They weren't in there.
I still wasn't sure if them not being in their room made me more or less sure of their safety, but I do know that even if it made me feel that they were safer, it wasn't enough to make me think that they were truly safe.
After realizing that my parents were not in their room, I made my way to my mother's study room only to find it empty again. Like when I rushed into their room, I wasn't sure if it made me happier or stressed me out more that neither of them were in the study.
With only one section of the house left, I bolted out into the living area that shared space with the kitchen to find the couches empty. After not seeing them on the couch, I instantly flicked my head over to the kitchen.
Sitting at the tall stool next to the small countertop peninsula was my father. Behind him was my mother, who was in the middle of walking around the counter, both looking at me with worried eyes.
"Adam! Are you ok? What's wrong? We heard you slam the door. I was just coming back to check on you," my mother said, making her way toward me.
Seeing both of them sent a wave of relief over my entire body. It was like I had just escaped the ensnarement of a heavy fishing net. It felt as if the world had unmuted itself, no longer only hearing the rush of blood in my head. It no longer felt like the air was ten degrees below zero. I felt like I could breathe again.
My mother asked again, "Adam are you ok?"
Finally mustering up enough willpower to respond to my mom, I came up with a convenient story and quietly said, "Yeah, I just had a scary dream."
My dad had made his way over to me as well and rested a hand on the top of my head, gentling ruffling my already disheveled hair before saying, "It's ok, buddy, it was just a scary dream."
"Yeah, it was just a scary dream. It wasn't real. It's ok Adam," my mother added consolingly. "Do you wanna go sit outside with me and your dad?"
"Isn't it cold?" I asked
My father thought for a second before saying, "It isn't bad out, but if you want you can grab a blanket" -he stopped for a second to scratch his head and think before continuing- "Or we could sit in side."
"Can we sit inside?" I said. Sitting outside on the porch would only remind me of when I had first been told about my parents and brother. I don't know if I would be able to relive those memories again for the second time today.
He looked slightly sour at my response, most likely wanting to sit outside, but eventually, my father relented and said, "Sure, we can sit inside bud," which seemed to make my mother happy.
I walked over to the couch with my mom, and we both sat down next to each other. She tilted her head slightly to the left and back, looking at my father, and grinned.
"Look at that. You do have a brain don't you," my mother said sarcastically, mocking my father.
Confused as to why she was berating my father, I peeked up in time to see my father start talking with two mugs in his hand.
"Well I know how stingy you get without your coffee," he shot back jokingly.
It was nice to see my parents bicker and joke over something like having their morning coffee. While it was nice to see and be reminded of what my life could have been like back on Earth, it was also a sour reminder of my life not turning out as it should have.
Gradually I was able to push those thoughts from my head and actually enjoy the time that I was spending with my family. We talked about what we wanted to eat today and for the rest of the week. We talked about our plans and what we would do when my father got home from work early on the few days he would be able to.
It was wonderful to sit down and have a nice conversation with my parents. Granted, I had to act slightly confused on some topics that we went over, trying to 'act my age,' but overall, it was fun.
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