Love Invasion

New Story for the Wattpaders!

This idea was revolving around my head for the past year and I was kind of thinking of penning it down and finally, here it is.

How do you find it, vomment!

I lost my mother when I was fifteen year old.

I’d just woken up early morning, rubbing my eyes and descending the staircase. The faint smell of coffee was wafting through my nostrils, soothing my frayed nerves. When I entered the kitchen I saw my father cooking a lovely breakfast for me and mother. It was Sunday that day, the day of laziness and togetherness. My father had promised us to cook breakfast for the family every Sunday a couple years back when my parents got indulged in a lover’s spat. My mother chastised her husband the whole time while the husband listened to his wife patiently, processing ways to placate her somehow. It was a comical sight.

My mother, Sarah Julia Evans had a healthy habit of going for a long drive every morning. I begged her to take me with her since I wanted to experience and feel the beauty of nature but she refuted politely, saying that she needed some time to herself, away from all the chaos, confusion and atrocities of a person’s life. But her return got me ice cream anyway which was more than enough.

Mom had again gone out for a long drive that Sunday and I knew that she was going to be home any minute. I walked inside the small kitchen which emanated warm, homey feel and kissed my father briefly on the cheek. His unadulterated smile brought me bliss and I sat on the bar stool, waiting for mother to arrive soon enough and then, scarf down the delicious breakfast hurriedly.

My mouth kept watering for the next fifteen minutes from the aroma of chocolate chip pancakes and while I was desperately waiting for mom, daddy was making three plates of the breakfast, whistling merrily. Five minutes later, a plate was placed in front of me and my tongue involuntarily glided over my lips and I almost stabbed my fork into the stack of pancakes.

“Daddy, can I start?” I whined impatiently.

Giving me a disapproving look, my father said, “Your mother will be back any minute. Can’t you just wait some time so we can have breakfast together as a family?” I pouted and shook my head defiantly. I was starving and it had already been twenty minutes.

But before he could scold me for my lack of control, the house phone rang suddenly, startling the two of us. My father sighed, got up and snatched the phone before hitting the answer button. “Hello, Evans Residence!” The intonation of his thick, male voice dripped authority.

Turning back to confront my share of the breakfast, I smiled wickedly at it and grabbed my fork from the kitchen counter. I shoved the fork into the pancakes and took a mouthful, moaning at the taste.

Suddenly jumping at a crackling noise, the fork slid from my fingers and I turned around swiftly to see a shocked figure of my father and the house phone lying on the marble floor. Confused, I just gazed at him for a minute or two, finding him frozen like ice. As time ticked away, confusion morphed into panic and I slid off the bar stool so as to sprint toward him.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?” I asked in a timid, frantic voice.

Dad remained stupefied, eyes wide and breathing laboured. Tears gathered at the edges of my eyes and all at once, I was petrified. I’d never seen my father look so blown away, scared. “Daddy!” My voice raised a notch and a hand grasped his forearm so as to jerk him. A mild shake brought him out of his reverie and he looked at me, realizing my presence in the room.

“Jen..Jennifer” My name escaped out of his mouth in a breathy voice, like he’d been running for hours. “Your mom…Sarah..!”

Each and every nerve in my body buzzed with adrenaline. My heart raced and my breath hitched.  “What happened to mom?” I inquired eagerly in a suspicious tone.

“She got in an accident.” With that, he plucked the car keys from a drawer, pocketed some cash hastily and rushed out of the door in white pyjamas and a blue t-shirt, leaving me all alone in the house.

I was transfixed for a while, out of my mind. It was like the world had stopped for once. At least my world had frozen. My parents were my world, my rock. Snatch any one of them away from me, I’d crumble.

I was crumbling.

After standing in the living room for an estimate of ten minutes, dubious and agitated, I climbed the stairs and made my way into my lair. Hopping into bed, I decided to sleep for a while, hoping to erase the remnants of the nightmare I was having.

But it wasn’t a nightmare. Otherwise I’d be having breakfast with my mother the next Sunday morning.