The Revelation

Chapter 8

ASHLEY      

        Someone knocked on the door and opened it an inch. I was revived out of my flashback and looked up. My mom was looking in and opened the door wide with a wide sigh of relief.

    "You're awake!" she exclaimed with a smile. "Get ready soon. You'll be late for your college." She left the door open behind her as she left.

         I jumped out of the bed and hastened to get ready; pulling on a faded blue jean and a full sleeved shirt to go along with it, stuffed my books in my bag and raced downstairs.

 I saw my mom at the kitchen table, making toast. A warm smell wafted up to me indicating chocolate chip cookies being baked in the oven placed near the sink. My dad and my little brother, Mike sat at the dining table which sat in far corner with a passage next to it, leading to the hall-cum-living room. Dad had his face hidden behind a newspaper, his breakfast lying untouched in front of him. My brother was slowly spreading butter along his toast while he had his eyes glued to one of the fiction novels he was reading, hiding it from sight by placing it on his lap which was tucked under the table. My brother was really nuts about such books!!

        "Hey," my mother said with a smile, while lading one of the plates with toast and the cookies for me, "How was your night at Maria? Got your work done?"

         "Yeah, it was great," I said smiling, picking up the plate.

         I made my way to the dining table and sat opposite to my father. The dining table was a four-seater one, perfect for my four member family.

         "Hey, Mike-y," I greeted my brother happily, knowing that it would annoy him.

        "Hi," he muttered indifferently, taking his eyes of his book for a second to look at his toast before plunging back into his book. He had applied excess butter to his toast while reading and was now rubbing two pieces of toast together in an attempt to scrape of excess butter to the other plain one.

          "Hey, what is that you have under the table?" I announced loudly, trying to get dad's attention to it. "Is that-is that a storybook, Mike?"

         Mike did not reply, but glared at me once before returning to his book. I chuckled once. He tried to kick me on my knees from under the table...but as usual, he was too occupied in his book to aim properly. At least this part of my family would never change no matter what. I was thankful for it.

         I glanced up at my father. For some reason, the newspaper had my dad's undivided attention for the moment, which was unusual for him as he always liked his breakfast hot but now it lay cold before him. However, my words had caught mom's attention, and she made her way to the table, a stern expression on her usually kind face.

         She snatched the novel and walked back to the kitchen table, placing the book on the counter but not saying anything. I knew he would receive a good telling off later from mom...he had been warned too many times not to bring his fantasy world down with him for meals. He glared at me again, this time giving me his evil look which he had reserved exclusively for me. I smiled sweetly at him, happy at the prospect and wishing I would be there to witness him being told off...maybe I could have added  a few other extra points to help my parents in it...I smiled again, imagining it. He had done the same to me too many times in the past, so I wasn't guilty of it.

        Mike quietly concentrated on his breakfast, seeing mom glance across at him. I glanced back at my father. He was still occupied by some news and had not yet surfaced. I was about to call out to him, when suddenly I choked in my toast. The headline had caught my attention. It was visible to me as dad was holding it up in front of him, reading some other page in the middle. I coughed and took a sip of water, I couldn't read the exact contents of the news from such distance but I could vaguely make out that there was a continuance of it on some other page; I guessed that it was the same news that had dad's undivided attention.