Don't Call Me 'Son' (Jeff the Killer Fanfic) [2nd Place in Jeff the Killer 2016]

Chapter 2

The silent chirping of birds echoed into the house as Michael quietly made his way towards the kitchen. The dim light of the morning showed that the sun had not risen quite yet and the curtains swayed in the dark once he reached the sink and washed his hands thoroughly. The kitchen itself wasn't that far from his room. In fact, the house he lived in now was a lot smaller than the house he lived in with the Thompson family. The Thompson's had an enormous kitchen. And a refrigerator as big as a closet. The kitchen he was in now looked like it could fit in a small bedroom.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Michael pulled a rubber band from his pocket and tied his hair back. A few hairs fell out, but he didn't mind as long as it didn't get in his eyes. His hair always got in the way when he was looking down or when he was cooking, so he always made sure to keep a hair band in his pockets. He reached for an apron after he fixed it in place and tied it around his waist, already used to this routine. Ever since the murder of his foster father, he had woken up unnecessarily early every day and couldn't go back to sleep. Whenever he closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, his mind wouldn't let him. He wasn't tired. Only for the past few years, the nightmares had gotten worse. The nightmares a problem to the point that his grades started to drop.  The last few families tried getting a doctor's help, but they ruled out insomnia. He said it was something in his mind that was stopping him from having peaceful dreams and giving him an odd sleeping pattern. With that knowledge, his foster parents took him to someone who could help. They tried sending him to a psychiatrist as well, but after a few sessions, they simply couldn't afford it anymore.

Rolling his sleeves up, Michael walked over to the fridge and pulled out the ingredients he would need: a carton of eggs and a jar of mayo. The rest were already outside and in arm's reach, so he closed the door without hesitation.

In that moment, he felt something vibrate in his pants and he shivered from the sudden friction. Rolling his eyes, a smiled tugged at Michael's lips as he pulled out his cellphone and looked at the caller ID.

Jake.

Michael quickly pulled out his earphones and hooked it on his phone, using the earphones so he wouldn't have to use only one hand when cooking. Clearing his throat, he waited for the sound of the call receiving and reached up to grab a bowl from the cabinets.  It wasn't out of the norm for Jake to call at this hour. He was a few hours early where he was, which made it convenient for the both of them. Once he had it in place, he put the earbuds in his ears and opened the call.

"Hello?" Michael greeted, placing his phone into his pocket.

"Good morning, sunshine. The Earth says 'hello'," Jake said happily on the other end.

Michael scoffed and shook his head in awed amusement. Jake was an idiot.

"If you've got time to make crappy references of Tim Burton movies, then that must mean your teacher ditched class again," Michael grumbled. 

He grabbing a pan from the rack that stood from above the island on the kitchen and placed it on the stove. Waiting, Michael tried to hide his smile before he pulled out a tub of cooking oil and turned on the stove.

Jake laughed on the other line. "Yes.. But at the same time, no. He had to leave class to console a girl who got her designer bag ruined. Kiiiind of dumb."

Michael scoffed and shook his head again. "No kidding..."

"So... I finally got down to listening to the music you wanted me check out," Jake began. 

"Oh? How did you like it?" Michael asked, cracking an egg into the frying pan.

Jake's voice dropped into a low whisper. It sounded like he didn't want anyone to hear him. "I liked it..." He didn't sound convincing at all. " Though... A few of them didn't fit to my ta-"