Linger in Silence (a Pokémon-based fan fiction)

Family

The sound of footsteps skittered down the hall. "Mommy! Wake up! There's someone sleeping in the living room!"

                   Jamie jumped up from the couch. The first thing he noticed was his dry mouth begging for water and his stomach cramping. He stumbled to the kitchen. He got out a glass from the cupboard, turned on the sink, and guzzled cool water down his burning throat.

His mother entered the kitchen with a child who looked no younger than five years old clinging to her shirt, peering curiously at him. "Well look who's already up. How did you sleep?"

                  "Fine," Jamie said quietly, half-hearing her question.

                  His mother looked down at the confused little girl with frizzy dark hair wearing Minccino footie pajamas. "Jacque, this is Jamie. He's your half-brother, remember?"

                  The girl rubbed her eyes to avoid eye contact.

                  His mother chuckled, "She's a bit shy. The last time you saw her, she was just a baby. Remember, you used to hold her and feed her with a bottle?"

                  "Yeah," said Jamie. "Kind of."

                 There was a brief moment of awkward silence when his mother smiled, "Come on, let's make some breakfast."

                    After whipping up a simple meal with barely any communication, they sat down to eat. They sat in silence as Jamie's mother picked at her food, seemingly deep in thought. Jacque, meanwhile, acted as though plate in front of her was non-existent, too distracted by her strange brother's unexplained presence. She leaned over the table toward her mother. "What is he doing here?" she whispered, only to be shushed as her mother continued to stare down at her plate. "Don't be rude and eat your food before it gets cold." Jacque sat back in her chair, her eyes full of nervous confusion as she quietly sat between the uncomfortable silence.

Jamie was unaware of Jacque's staring or the conversation and had been staring blankly at the table. He suddenly began to sweat and he tasted bile in his throat. Images of things he didn't want to remember returned to him without warning like a heavy fog trying to engulf and suffocate him. All he could feel was his heart beating out of his chest as he forgot how to breathe.

                   "Jamie!" He jumped as his mother's voice split through his thoughts and he snapped back to the present. He ceased his leg thumping the bottom of the table which he had been unconscious of the entire time. His family stared at him, bewildered and worried.

                  "Yes?" he breathed, trying desperately to calm himself.

                   "Are you okay?" his mother asked, concerned. "You look as though you've seen a ghost."

                  Jamie froze to the bone and felt his heartbeat increase again. He dug his fingernails into his wrist keep himself calm. "Yeah, I'm fine. Did you say something?"

                  "I asked how long you plan on staying."

                  Jamie took a long drink of milk. "I don't know. Awhile, I guess."

                  His mother stood. "In that case, I should get your room ready."

                  "Is he going to sleep in the other room?" Jacque asked.

                  "It's his room, baby."

                   "But how long will he be here for?"

                   "Jacque, go make your bed."

                  With a scowl, Jacque and hopped off her chair and went into her room.

                  Jamie followed his mother to his bedroom. She opened the door and turned on the light. Jamie noticed that everything was in its original place: the nightstand with the lamp and alarm clock next to the bed, the dresser in-between the closet and the door, and the desk and chair in front of the window. Of course, he remembered the best part; the door on the left that cut into the bathroom instead of having to go through the doors outside.

                  He touched the top of his dresser but found no dust on his fingers.

                  "I kept this room clean," said his mother in a monotone. "Jacque sometimes uses it as an extra playroom. The sheets are in the closet." With that, she took out his white sheets and blankets from the top shelf and he helped her put them on.

                   Neither of them spoke but Jamie kept noticing his mother glancing at him before looking back at the sheets.

                   "What, Mom?"

                   "Nothing. It's just, you look so much different now. It's weird seeing how much you've grown." His mother paused. "I guess you were already grown-up when you left, but you were still my baby."

                  "You think ten is too soon?"

                   "Excuse me?"

                    "I mean, do you think it's a good idea to let kids leave home before puberty?"

                     "You're thinking too deeply about this. That's just how things are and as long as it's legal, there's nothing wrong with it." There was more silence when Jamie's mother could no longer hold back her concern. "Did something happen?"

Jamie avoided her gaze, as though he had been fearing the question. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me. I hadn't heard from you for over a year. You leave me to worry about you, then you just show up without even letting me know you were coming, or even telling me why?"

Jamie shook open the top sheet roughly.

"Why aren't you responding?"

"Mom, you're freaking out."

"Because you're ignoring me!" she stormed, tears rimming her green eyes and falling down her cheeks. "Just because you're my son doesn't mean you can treat me like that! It's not fair and all your doing is making me worried sick about you! So please just talk to me!"

Jamie was stunned by the outburst. Her distress had pierced straight through his heart like a bullet and he immediately felt remorse. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said gravely. "I never wanted to make you upset. The truth is I've been feeling under a lot of stress lately and I just wanted to get away from everything. I didn't call you because I didn't want to make you worry and I thought you'd be happy to see me. I guess I miscalculated."

                  His mother looked him in the eyes and brushed back a cluster of shaggy, dark hair behind his ear. "I'm very proud of you. You've worked very hard making it all the way to the tournament and you deserve a rest. You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

                 "Thanks, Mom." 

                  "I'm happy you're home."

                  "Me too,"