The Drafted Reality and Dreams

CHAPTER 1: MARY

It was another day, week, and year. Today was the day that I finally got back to school. Spring has ended and bees are back to buzzing, especially the wild pigs that run around at school. But today felt different, I was actually excited to go back to school for some random reason. I didn't have friends nor did I want any really.
"Mary, dear! It's time to get up for school!" Mom yelled throughout the house, even when it was unnecessary.
"I'm up! I'm up..." I groaned, lifting myself up from the mattress. My hair was covered with frizzy magnitudes. I had a hard time falling asleep last night. The springs of the mattress were stabbing me in my sides; Which bothered me a whole lot. Maybe I should ask for a new one?
I grumbled as I went towards my closet, grabbing a light pink dress that was made out of a soft material. After I got dressed, I grabbed a white hair tie and an old fashioned watch off of my dresser; Even my android cell phone that was on my nightstand.
I walked down the stairs, seeing mom making breakfast. I sat down at the breakfast corner, watching her set up the table.
"Today's breakfast is blueberry waffles and bacon, hope that will be enough to call it breakfast." She smiled softly, making subtle eye contact.
I nodded, "That will do." I yawned, "Is dad gonna be eating breakfast this time? He didn't yesterday." I asked.
"Hmm..." She hummed, "Not sure." She replied, going back to get the waffles out of the toaster, and the bacon out of the microwave. Guess cooking is much easier.
"Will he be going to work today?" I asked her another question.
"No, he won't be since he's feeling unwell." She sighed, she grabbed the maple syrup out of one of the cabinets. "Want maple syrup on your waffles?" She asked.
"No thanks, I like my waffles plain. But how is he unwell? What happened?" I rest my head on one of my hands.
"Well..." She continued, "Last night, when he came back home from work he said that he wasn't feeling very well–said that he got food poisoning." She sighed.
I nodded. "Well here's your breakfast." She walked over towards the table, placing the plate of waffles and bacon right in front of me.
"Thanks." I smiled softly, tearing up the waffles into smaller pieces.
"I will go wake up your brother." She patted my shoulder gently before walking upstairs.

Dad was in the living room, holding an opened up newspaper. Could say that he's old fashioned. I stood up from the chair, walking towards the entrance of the living room trying to get a peak.
"Dad?" I called out, hearing subtle breathing. I tip-toed closer, this time I start hearing silent noises coming from him; Sounds like snoring. Guess he fell asleep. I went back to the breakfast table as mom and Edson, my little brother, who was born on February 12, 2008, came walking down the stairs.
I continued eating my breakfast. Meanwhile, mom was making a plate for Edson. I stared at Edson for a little bit, not realizing it until he said something.
"What? Why are you looking at me weird?" He said, having a funny look on his face.
"No reason really. Just thinking how I should beat you." I smiled, being sarcastic with him.
"Be nice Mary." Mom sighed, leaning against the counter while holding a cup of coffee.
"What? I'm just joking." I paused, "Maybe..."
Mom shook her head, I could tell she was a bit disappointed to hear such things. "You better be joking." She sighed.
I was halfway done eating, having a tiny piece of bacon left. Edson, the one who is only half awake still has more than half of a plate of food.
"I'm going to be leaving soon." I said, breaking the silence.
Mom nodded, "Alright, you have a safe trip to school, alright?" She said, giving me her "eagle eyes"
I nodded my head, standing up to put on my shoes. Mom handed me my flannel bag, "Don't be such a stranger towards your own mom, okay?" She said, sounding a bit concerned.
Step-mom, I added. This woman isn't my birth mother but I sometimes tell myself that she was my actual mother. I guess I never got over her...
My birth mother was named Ashlyn, she was soft-hearted, but dad always gets her other side out. Mom and dad had a fight when I was young, and of course this was when we were living in our old house–They were yelling at each other on the second floor in the middle of the night. I was getting a cup of water when I woke up in the middle of the night but when I was about to go back upstairs–I saw mom at the bottom of the staircase. I can mostly remember her breathing so weakly, there wasn't much that I could do at the time. I was a little girl at that time, so what do you expect me to do? All I could was watch her die, she was staring at me–her eyes were screaming for help...
Dad didn't do much to help her other than taking her to their bedroom. He told me to go back to bed and to not worry. But I ended up going into their bedroom when dad was in the other room. She was covered in needles–dad covered her in needles. Could say that's how I got my fear of needles... She ended up passing away after a few weeks. I can't help but remember that whenever I go into that room. Still haunts to this day.