The Beginning of The End

Chapter 3

"Fu-!" Jackson's ripped away from his slumber, his body jerking up in bed at the sound of a deafening drill. His conscious was at first foggy, struggling to figure out what it was he was even hearing. The sound continues to grow louder, bringing him to turn around in his bed to pull back his curtains.

"A helicopter..?" He mumbled, eyes squinting at said aircraft as it flew over his house. He started to question why he was evening seeing one this close, as he recalled this never being any normal occurrence. Yet, he knows they exist, so he rubs it off as some small emergency and grabs his phone to check the time. "8:14? Shit- Shit!" He hastily stumbles over through his bathroom to reach his closet, pulling out a dark blue T-shirt and grey colored jeans without truly thinking, switching out his outfit from last night with his new.

Soon, he's downstairs, turning the corner to greet his mother, who was currently digging past the many items within the top kitchen counter.

"You're in a rush," She says, not even turning to look at her son, "I didn't want to wake you, but school called this morning saying they're canceled for the rest of the week." Jackson slowly puts her words together in his head, absentmindedly pulling at the hems of his shirt. "Are you okay after last night? I'm sure the news spooked you.." Susan pulls out an unknown spice, humming with annoyance before placing it back, "I'm making breakfast now. Just eggs for today, since we need to go to the store."

"I'll make breakfast."

"Do what?" Jackson wasn't even aware at what he had said, staring surprisingly at her face, which held complete disbelief. What did I say? "Can you even cook?" She asks, trying to confirm if what she heard was correct. He blinks, gasping an 'oh'.

"I can cook." His mother doesn't answer immediately, looking at him like he grew a second head. "I may not be, 'experienced'," He makes quotations with his fingers to top it off, "but I can still cook up some eggs." Even with the attempt to reassure her, Susan's face didn't change.

"Jackson Chambers. Cooking."

"Yeah...?" He responds with a click of his tongue, an awkward smile on his lips. Another minute later, she's sighing sarcastically, closing the cabinet with a playful huff.

"Fine," Her hands find their way to her hips, "You may cook some breakfast,"

"Nice-!"

"Ah ah," She tuts, "Only on one condition." Jackson, who was previously on his way to grab a pan, stops. "You make enough for everyone, and you do not burn down the kitchen."

"Like I said, mother," He resumes his action, pulling down the pan from it's hanging rack before pointing it towards her, a smirk present on his face, "I know how to cook."

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"Yeah, I heard them. I'm sure it's nothing though." Jackson had just finished his third batch of eggs when he decided to ask his mother about the helicopters he had woke up to this morning. His mom's response was already predicted, him privately noting that she was probably saying that for his own good in attempt to keep him calm. It made him a bit uneasy. "I assume they had to pick up someone, or something. Helicopters are really good means of transportation." She placed a pristine plate on the counter beside the stove as she spoke, next to where Jackson had started making the fourth and final serving of scrambled eggs.

"I guess you're right.."

"Jackson's cooking?!" The chef of the day glanced at the clock, 9:30, the exact time his sister wakes up on the weekends. Unfortunately, her obnoxious voice was right on cue.

"Oh shut up, Ava. You act like cooking is so hard." He retorts. His glare remains on her the entire time his father comes marching around the corner, an empty coffee mug in his hand.