Escape From Reality

The Sketch

A million questions spiralled through my head.

Who was the boy? What was in that house? Who was that monster?

A million questions but yet no answers.

Today, I didn't go to school. My dad insisted I stay home yesterday because of my ankle. I agreed begrudgly. So right now I was in bed staring up at the ceiling, having just woken up. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I was glad I didn't have to face Layla today. However I knew that there must be rumours going around about my absence. Hopefully nothing too crazy, but knowing Layla, she'll probably say I'm pregnant or something.

Last night, too afraid to sleep after that awful nightmare, I stayed up until 4am before sleepiness overtook me and I eventually fell asleep unwillingly. Luckily,it was a dreamless night. I woke up at 12pm in an empty house.

Today, I was determined to get some answers about the strange occurrences happening inside my head. Starting with the boy.

I conjured up a picture of his face. His messy black hair. Face streaked with sweat. A mask of shock. Turning over to pull out my sketch book from my bedside table, I grabbed a pencil and started to sketch.

Concentrating, I tried my best to draw him as accurately as possible from the best of my memory. Lying on my bed, I worked quickly,occasionally grabbing my eraser to redraw a part of him,from the shape of his nose and the ducks on his pajamas. Soon after, I had him on the piece of paper. Satisfied, I held up the sketchbook. There was he. There was the boy.

What was his name? I wondered curiously. I guess if he was a figment of my imagination, I could technically name him. But no matter how hard I thought, no name seemed to fit him. I had an almost nagging feeling that he was supposed to tell me himself.

For now, he would be the boy. Stretching,I decided to raid the kitchen and get some lunch.I was absolutely ravenous. Heading down,I limped down the stairs, feeling a throb ricochet up my left foot with each step. I winced. Good thing I had the weekend to recover.

Going into the kitchen, the clock showed it was half past twelve. In half an hour, school would be over. I thought of all of the homework I'll receive on monday and groaned. I would have a mountain of homework to do, considering it was for the weekend, and no one would be kind enough to drop it off at my house.

After fixing up a sandwich for lunch, I sat down at the little kitchen table and began munching my sandwich. I thought miserably of the days when my mother used to make me lunch. Those days were no longer possible, and I really wish they were. My mother's death came out of nowhere, like the way a hungry bird once swooped in to snatch a chocolate waffle straight out of my hand while I was at the beach. It happened so fast that it took me a few moments to realise it even happened. By the time I realised what had happened, the bird was far away in the distance, and I could only watch helplessly as it flew away with my snack. I remember crying my eyes out at my misfortune, angry that the bird had picked me to steal the waffle, when there were countless other people it could have chosen. My dad simply chuckled and bought me a new waffle, which I protected with all of might to make sure the bird didn't pull the same nasty trick. Unlike my waffle, as I watched my mother fly away from me in the clutches of the grim reaper,there was no replacing her back. That was simply a fact.

We never knew why my mother died,the doctors said it was because her heart just stopped beating. I just woke up one day and she was gone. She just never woke up. She died the most peaceful death, unawarely blissful that it was the end. Gone. Just like that.

The day she died, I didn't have to go to school. Normally, I would have been overjoyed, but this time, it was evidently different. Me and my dad simply sat there on the sofa, huddling into each other in shock as the paramedics carried my mother away. 3 days later, the funeral. And one month later, we moved.

I had finished my sandwich by now. I tossed the plate into the sink, planning to wash it later. School was dismissed now. I watched out the kitchen window as streams of my schoolmates filled the streets.

I blinked. That face looked strangely familiar. In the crowd of students, I could have sworn I saw a face that looked exactly like the boy. But then the face merged into the crowd and I dismissed it quickly as just a figment of my imagination.