Don't Forget Tomorrow

Chapter 1

I wake up in a bright blue colored room, stickers of blue birds and posters of random boy bands on the walls. "What a room," I sigh, not amused with how typical my room looks. I stumble a bit, the words my room on the tip of my tongue, but I can't quite get them out. The truth is, I don't even know who's room this is. I assume it's mine because, well, I woke up in it. I shiver a bit, it's kinda scary now that I think about it. Then, as it does every morning, the knowledge of what's happening rushes into my head. 

"Oh. Right. Snap out of it Scarlet," I mutter to myself.

I look down at my clothes, and I notice what I'm wearing. A fat, orange bear holding a jar of honey is the image on my t-shirt. I read the words and I realize it says: "Winnie the pooh".  After a wave of confusion comes over me, I shrug and let it be. 

I finally force myself out of my big, comfy bed after I hear voices coming from under the floor. It seems to be a young boy, and an older man and woman. I can't really tell what they're talking about, but it doesn't seem important. 

Finding a calendar on the wall, I scan through it to find a few dates marked: June 6th, which I'm assuming is today's date, as all the other dates before it have been crossed out, and June 15th, which is marked as my 17th birthday. Realizing what I'm supposed to do, I grab the marker that was placed on top of the calendar, and I cross out the date of June 6th. "Okay... makes sense," I think to myself, apparently out loud.

After cleaning myself up a bit, I open the door to find a set of stairs, leading down to the kitchen. Closing the door behind me, I follow the noise down the stairs. That's when it happened. I tripped and fell down the stairs. All the way down the stairs. People come running towards me like a stream through a river and all I can think of is "OWWW!" I yell out, in obvious pain.

"Are you okay, honey?" Asks a tall woman in a concerned tone. She obviously cares about me. Her facial features remind me a bit of mine, with her dirty blonde waves, and dull brown eyes. She seems, obviously, way older than me, probably well into her 40s; but, her perfect, sun kissed skin reminds me of that of a model's. 

Coming to the realization that this woman is probably my mother, I reply, "Ya. I'm fine, I just slipped was all." Hesitant to get up and see the rest of my family, I lie down on the cold, wood planked floor for a good minute. Everyone was just staring at me, confused as to why I won't get up.

"Should I call an ambulance or something? Is she, like, dying?" Inquires a younger boy, looking to be at least 13. His rich hair, similar in color and texture to mine, falls down onto his face as he asks the question. Not interested enough in the situation, he walks away and gets back to the table to return to eating his cereal.

Ahhhh. So that must be my younger brother. Everyone's kind of fed up with me at this point, so I finally get up and scan through the house. With the home's big size, and definitely well decorated interior, I come to the conclusion that the owners of this home must have lots of money.

Oh wait.

That's me. I live in this house. Right.

As I begin to make my way towards the table, an older man quickly checks his watch, gives my mother a kiss on the cheek, says goodbye, and rushes out the door. He must be a very busy man. That must've been my dad. 

That's the last I saw of my dad....today. 

Pouring myself a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles, I decide I should probably start to actually.. y'know.. talk to my family. I mean, they are my family... I think. 

From our long and boring conversation, I found out this much. My mom's name is Shayna, and she's married to someone, who supposedly is my dad, Paul. Paul works as a hotshot lawyer, explaining the huge ass house I woke up in. My younger brother, Mason, is 13 and really, really likes the guitar; so much that he wakes up and re-teaches himself how to play it every. single. morning. 

After another half hour of trying to talk to my mom, but being interrupted by Mason's attempts of playing the guitar, I see another vague figure walking down the stairs. As he comes down the stairs, I can start to make out what he looks like, which is basically like Mason but older and really, really buff. Unlike me, this guy doesn't have the same struggle to come down the stairs, so he comes to the table and sits down without a problem. 

Spreading his legs out really far and wide as he sits down, he slouches further and further into the chair, noticeably thinking really hard about something when finally, he opens his mouth to speak, "So... you guys are my family?"

"Well, it seems so. I'm Shayna, your mom. Paul's your dad and..." she continued on and on, but I blanked out after a certain point. No need to listen to this twice. It was boring enough the first time.

"Oh. Well I'm Henry, I'm 20 years old. Not much more to me, I guess," he mumbles, obviously not very interested in carrying on the conversation. 

As soon as I begin to zone off, my daydreams are interrupted by someone kicking my leg. I look down to see which of these people, I mean my family, is trying to interrupt my perfectly good daydream.

It's Mason, of course. Right when he opened his mouth to speak, I had a feeling something stupid was going to come out of it. Sure enough, it did, "So, do you have any issues? Is that why you won't talk much and you keep staring and you fell down the stairs? 'Cause you're kinda weird." Damn. He was blunt. 

"MASON!" My mom scolds, "you can't talk to your sister that way! Did your parents ever teach you manners?" Everyone in the room could see the change in her face from angry to confused after she realized what she'd said. 

Luckily, we all just pretended that that didn't just happen and after a minute pause, we went back to our usual, dull conversation.

"Maybe we should go introduce ourselves to the neighbors on the block? Make a few friends?" My mom suggests, even though we have no choice on whether we're going or not; she does. So, we all stay quiet as she gets up and begins to clean the table, making it clear that we should get ready to leave the house. The house, being all we've known for as long as we can remember, had become our safe haven and now we have to leave. 

Meeting my family was already a drag, and now I have to deal with meeting all these irrelevant people that I'll forget about tomorrow anyways. "Yay" I mumble to myself, sarcastically.