It's In The Past

An Old Life

A/N: If you didn't read the first chapter it's recommended (things might not make much sense if you don't)

     My body felt lifeless. Limbs felt powerless and numb. My eyelids were weights that wanted to be lifted back into position. Did no one care that it had been a hit and run? Did Reggie just watch me lie in the street? Can I really blame him?

       I would've sat there and done nothing. At least I'll never have the chance to go back to that bar. Then again...I'll never get to puke on his stupid floors. My thoughts were interrupted by the swinging of a door. I went silent trying to hear my possible savour. I would like to plead for help, but there was no pain. Is this Heaven? Is this what it's like? Even worse...what if I'm waiting to enter Hell. Could this be the devil himself entering the chamber of pain?

     "Terry, if you don't get up now you'll miss your bus." Satan sure has a sweet woman's voice. Some type of fetish perhaps? What's this conflict about a bus? I felt my eyelids lift and was blinded by a streak of light. I searched through my blurry vision to see a semi open curtain in the corner of the dim room. "If you don't get up I sure as Hell ain't driven you to school." Was this some kind of joke. I mean...she-...he...did say Hell in that sentence. What if going to school is my Hell? Oh dear God help me. Wait...should I say that in Hell?

     I lifted my body to where I was sitting up. I flinched back when I turned left to see my mother. No...this wasn't my mother. Well, it was but, it wasn't. It was physically impossible unless they had invented the best plastic surgery operation in history.

     "What happened to your face?!?" I saw her body slowly turn as she popped a cigarettes in her lipstick covered mouth. "Thanks Terry, now not only your father is saying that." She walked over to the window and slammed the curtains open. "If you started waking up to your stupid alarm," She kicked the old black alarm that stood on the floor, "then I wouldn't have to come in here every morning and wake your lazy ass up." Okay, I am having a serious deja vu moment right now. "You're my Mom...right?" She stopped and slowly turned once again and glared at me through her cigarette smoke. "Okay, you're really turning into your father. No, Terry, it wasn't the milk man. If ya' don't believe me I got the stretch marks to prove it."

     "Ron! I hate that son of a bitch!"

     "Watch your mouth Terry I didn't raise you like Mrs. Jefferson raised her kids down the block. Now I don't like his mother either considering she always makes that crap casserole and everyone has to say how great it is or she'll have a flippin heart attack. Also, who makes casserole anymore?"

      Obviously she didn't realize I wasn't exactly focusing on her problems at the moment because she continued.

      "It's Monday by the way. Of course you would of known that if you kept a calendar in this stink hole you call a room."

     "Wait, um...Mom...what day is it. Like, the exact day?"

     "How much alcohol did Ron have? You know what. I don't want to know. It's April 24."

     "What year?"

     "Okay Marty Mcfly it's April 24, 2000. I'm calling Sasha, her son was at that party too. If you're this bad I can't wait to hear about her kid." She walked out of my room clapping her flip flops while putting out her cigarette that was placed on the coffee table in the hall.

     What is happening right now. I could feel the confusion written all over my face. I looked at my black clock to see the numbers 6:00 AM displayed on it. I rubbed my head and looked at my clothing. I was wearing my old grey hoodie I got freshman year that hadmy school mascot on it, we earned the name, "The Tragic Tigers" because of our losing play in football. I must of lost this...well. I mean...this year... I guess. I laughed and looked at my hands. I felt fantastic. When I stood up my back didn't ache or crack at any moment. I walked over to the full body mirror and almost jumped back in fear. My black hair was sticking in every direction, my brown eyes were vibrant with fear, and my face was smooth. I can't remember the last time my eyes were this bright and alive.