Fever Dream

Chapter 2

He woke up early the next morning, excited to see the beautiful little girl. Today would be the first day of their meeting. He knew that he was probably dreaming, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He ran as fast as he possibly could. As soon as he opened the door, he sprinted into the kitchen.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" His grandmother greeted. She was sitting at the table eating pancakes.

"Morning, grandma. Is mom already here?"

"Yes, she's getting ready for work. Why? Are you feeling sick?"

"Nah." He replied, grabbing a piece of toast from the counter. "Why are the pancakes not cooked yet?"

His grandmother looked up from her plate, blinking in confusion at him. "Huh? They were cooking earlier. But they are now. What?"

"How?"

"What? Why would you ask that?"

"Because I can't smell anything. It smells like you're not making breakfast anymore."

"Hmm..." She put down her knife and fork, staring down blankly at the pancake. After a moment, she smiled softly. "Then we must be cooking something else. Come with me."

"Okay." He mumbled, following her down the hall towards the stairs. He sat down on the couch as she headed straight into the other room. She returned moments later holding a large tray full of food.

"Here you go." She smiled as she set the tray down on the coffee table in front of him. "Try it."

"Thanks." He muttered, picking up a fork and hesitantly biting into the fluffy white pastry.

It tasted good, but he still couldn't tell if it was edible. He chewed the pancake carefully before swallowing it down.

"See?" His grandma said proudly. "Isn't it delicious?"

"Yeah, it looks really yummy." He replied, nodding. "But... is that milk?"

She blinked. "You like milk?"

"Of course. I love it."

"Okay," She smiled as she poured herself some milk from a bottle in the fridge. "Then take a sip. Try it yourself."

He cautiously took a sip. Then he stopped mid bite. A few drops of milk splashed against his face and down his neck. It stung slightly.

"That's gross!" He cried.

His grandma chuckled lightly. "Don't worry. I used a very thick glass container to make it. I didn't use a cup."

She poured him another helping, which he took without hesitation. When it hit the back of his throat, he nearly coughed.

"Ouch!" He groaned.

"Oh, don't be such a baby." His grandma said, shaking her head.

They finished their breakfast. Once the plates were cleared away, his grandmother began gathering up her things. She placed them into a large black suitcase that sat beside the couch. She then grabbed the two cups of coffee from the table and began packing up her stuff as well.

"Are you leaving already?" He asked.

"We have to leave sooner rather than later. The bus won't be coming today."

"Oh, right..." Rokha frowned as he picked his bag up from beside the sofa and headed outside.

His gran was waiting for him by the car. She smiled as he stepped out of the house, closing the door behind him.

"I'm ready when you are."

"Let's go, then."

They drove across town in silence. Neither of them spoke, not wanting to spoil the moment between them. Eventually, they reached the bus station.

When they finally arrived, they hopped out of the car. She gave him a hug before saying farewell. She reminded him to call her once he got home safely. Before he knew it, his grandma was gone.

As soon as he left the building, he found himself surrounded by people. Many of them were wearing colorful clothing, most of which consisted of a lot of brightly colored fabrics. Most of them looked quite familiar. He wondered if he'd met them before.

After he wandered around the bus station for a while, he finally decided to stop in one of the small shops. He went inside, thinking that maybe there was something inside that would help him remember who these people were. The only thing he wanted was to find out why they were dressed in all sorts of strange clothes.

After spending several minutes wandering aimlessly throughout the shop, he finally settled on a few outfits. One of the outfits in particular caught his eye immediately. It was an orange jumpsuit with a hood and red, round sunglasses hanging off the end. It looked a little ridiculous, but he thought that maybe it would suit him. He chose the outfit and bought it.

After paying for the item, he exited the store and made his way to the bus station, eager to leave the place. As soon as he entered through the entrance, he realized that something felt wrong. There were so many strangers in the terminal. None of them seemed to be able to pay attention to what was happening around them, instead, they were chatting happily with each other or looking down at something on their phones. He noticed how quiet it was compared to the crowded streets of the city.

He walked through the crowds and made it to the ticket booth without any trouble. As he waited patiently in line, he glanced down at the items in his hands, examining them closely. His eyes widened when he saw that some of them looked familiar. He remembered seeing them before. Some of them even belonged to people he had known all his life. Like a couple of his favorite shirts. Another one had a picture of a cat and the letters 'K' on it. There were a few other things that he recognized, mostly because of his own memories. Other than those items, however, there were also some new items. A small book. A necklace. An old phone case. A lighter. Some notebooks. He didn' t recognize any of it. Maybe they were different things. Or maybe they weren't.

Before he could finish contemplating his thoughts, the person standing in front of him had already finished buying their tickets. As soon as he had turned around, he heard someone calling his name. Looking up, he saw a woman who looked about the same age as him. Her hair was tied up into a neat bun, and she was wearing a bright yellow sundress. She stood there waving, beckoning him over. He quickly shook his head and hurried past her. Just as he passed her, he turned back around, noticing that she hadn' t moved at all. Instead, she looked just as confused as he did.

"Uh.. sorry, I guess I got lost." He apologized, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"It's fine." She smiled. "Come back this way, it will only take five minutes."

"Ok, sure." He nodded slowly, following her as she began walking. "I haven't seen you here before, have I?"

"No, not until recently." She answered, glancing down at him briefly. "I've been working for my father for almost four years now. I think I know this town better than anyone though. So, you should come back when your mom gets home." She laughed lightly. "Unless you have somewhere else to be."

"No, no. It's ok. I have time, so let's go."

The rest of the ride was spent talking about various subjects, including school. As they approached the bus stop where he usually got off, she said goodbye.

"Bye! Have a nice day!"

With that, she waved goodbye and began walking away.

When he had finally reached the apartment complex again, he began to run up the steps to get inside. He was glad to see his mother was awake already. He dropped his bag on the ground and hurried over to her side of the room.

"Mom, you're home!" He exclaimed happily, wrapping his arms around her torso tightly.

"Hey, kiddo." She smiled warmly, wrapping her arms around his back as he pulled away from the embrace. "How was school?"

"Fine." He shrugged noncommittally.

"Your dad called yesterday. Do you want to talk to him?"

"No thanks." He replied, turning his back on her and beginning to rummage through the bags.

"Is everything okay?" His mother frowned, watching as he dug inside the bags frantically. "What are you looking for?"

"Nothing." He snapped, shoving a pair of shorts into the bag.

"Did you forget something?"

"Maybe."

"Well, do you want me to look?"

"NO!" He growled, dropping the shorts onto the bed next to him. He kicked the bag aside and flopped onto the bed, burying his face into his pillow.

His parents shared a worried glance. After a minute, he heard his mother moving closer to him. She sat down next to him and gently ran her fingers through his hair. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against the top of his head.

"Do you feel better?" She asked quietly.

"A little bit." He mumbled.

His mother continued stroking his hair softly.

"What did your teacher ask you?" She asked after a while.

"Math."

"And did you answer correctly?"

"Yes."

"Good. Why don' t you try to sleep? You must be exhausted." She suggested.

"Yeah." He sighed.

He laid down on the bed. After closing his eyes, his body instantly relaxed. All the tension drained out of him. But before drifting off completely, he couldn't help but wonder: What kind of life is this?