Stuck Like Glue

?Chapter Thirty-Two?

Y/n
The elevator doors revealed the hall I'd run down just a little while ago. I stepped out finally, turning my head every which way to see where to go to find somewhere to just sit and think for a little while. I found a little waiting room and stepped inside, taking a seat and folding my hands together over my legs.

That's when everything around me changed. I had closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself be sucked into my thoughts. But when I thought I'd see the nice, cool beige tiles under my feet? I'd be shocked to see the carpet of my home. I stood up, nearly knocking my brother over in the process.

"Ah, shit. I'm sorry! Are you okay?" I bend down slightly and help him up, it was the right thing to do anyway. He sent me a goofy smile and nodded his head.

"Course I'm fine! And hey? I came back for you, just like I said I would." This reminded me of the note, memories that had long since been blurred out were now in full effect here. Where even was I?

"That's not possible..." I mumble, looking around us as I leave my room. "You're dead."

"What's gotten into you, none of us here are dead!" Those words sent shivers down my spine. I knew damn well my brother knew about the zombies. I turned my head to him, seeing him morph into my father.

"Haven't I ever told you not to run away?" His soft tone reminded me of the days where he wasn't cruel and harsh, but rather my father. This was who he was supposed to be towards me and my family. But he changed. They all changed.

"I'm sorry, no this isn't possible." I shake my head and hesitantly approach. "You don't get it! You died in the explosion after being ripped apart by these weird zombie things!" Having forgotten about him previously being my brother, I rambled on and on about how he died. Was this a sort of grief? Surely I wasn't sleeping.

"Y/n? Is something wrong? Are you ill?" My father reaches his hand up to my forehead, though expectant to flow right through. My heart stops beating when it doesn't. Was everything I'd seen before a lie? It can't be, everything was so vivid and real. My nightmares or dreams wouldn't be so elaborate and you can't have dreams without some being blurry and unable to remember them. "By god! You're burning up, here." He grandly moved me to lay back on my bed, soundly staring up at him in silence.

"Where's mom?" I ask him, curious about his answer.

"She's sleeping hun, but when she wakes I'll be sure to tell her you're ill." He leans down and carefully kisses my forehead. "Try to get some sleep, okay? I'll be back in a few." With such he turns and leaves. But I was back in my small child body, the curiousness never dying down.

I heard him talking to a man, which I spotted outside my room when I curiously stared at him. Adorned with pitch black shades that hide the color and shape of his eyes from view of any man or woman, but not me. I could see right under them. His eyes were like lava, embers so hot that it would melt every part of your body until it was all shriveled up and dead inside and out.

He also had an aspiring, slicked back blonde hair. I could barely make out a piece that wasn't proper, maybe one that fought against him and won over time. I blinked, seeing them walking towards the room my father always took guests. I quietly tip toed after them, wanting to hear in on their conversation.

The blonde stops at the door, holding it open for my father. As he walks through, the blonde speaks. "Of course your son is ill again, with all these monsters running around. It's a wonder they haven't eaten you or him yet." I furrowed my tiny little brow, monsters? What monster? Slowly, the real world was fading away and trapping me in this inescapable hell I'd let myself inside.

I moved to the door as it was left open a crack. Why was all of this so familiar? From what I could see that blonde man was standing at the large window. My father shook his head, a frown on his lips. "I know... I'm trying so desperately to make him immune to illness, but it seems he's far too susceptible to it than I originally thought.