Scary Things

Toast

I opened one eye and glared, with blurred-vision at the buzzing alarm clock on my bedside table.

8 AM. Shit.

I yawned, pushed back my quilt and swung my legs out over the side of the bed with a groan, bare feet making contact with the cold wood floor of my room.

With a sigh, I pushed myself off the bed, stretched, and shakily stepped over the discarded clothes that littered the floor of my room, as I made my way to the door.

Mom would be pissed, I was supposed to be up an hour ago, and since dad wasn't around anymore to give me a ride to school...anyway, I needed to jump in the shower, grab some breakfast, change into my uniform, and scoot.

I heard the sound of running water as I made my way across the landing to the bathroom. Jesus Christ, as if I wasn't late enough.

I knocked on the door.

"Hey Mom! I'm up, we gotta leave in 20 mins!"

No response.

I tried the handle. Locked.

"Mom? You in there?"

Silence.

I rubbed my temples, before shrugging my shoulders in resignation and heading downstairs to the kitchen.

On auto-pilot, my feet pitter-pattered across the linoleum floor, and I grabbed a loaf of bread out of the cupboard.

I glanced up at the clock on the wall, 8:05 AM. Toast it is.

I took out two slices of bread and replaced the loaf in the cupboard, eyes drifting towards the counter.

There was an empty space next to the microwave.

I looked around the kitchen and frowned.

Where was the toaster?