Chasing Daylight

Skai, April 23, 2014

“Even our worst nightmares become dreams.”  –– Skailar

Chapter 2

   I GASP OUT LOUD AS MY EYES SHOOT OPEN AND THE SUN BEAMS THROUGH MY WINDOW AND RIGHT INTO MY EYES. I notice I am still smiling and feeling happy because of such a wonderful dream. Then I realize that I had not sealed with a righteous kiss and my smile quickly turns into a frown and I slowly stumble out of bed. As I mope downstairs, I wonder why I would have such a vivid dream. I never have dreams like that. Even if I did have an interesting dream at all, it would probably be some sort of nightmare. As I get to the bottom of the stairs, my step-father, Matt is already in the kitchen with coffee at his side and a butter knife in his hand. My older brother, Jared is, as usual, mouthing lines to whatever songs with earphones stuck in his head.

   “Hey, Matt,” I mean to sound a little more enthusiastic, or cheerful as you might say so yourself.

   “Hey, kiddo. You seem fairly anti-cheerful. You alright?” his head turns up and he looks at me with scornful eyes.

   “Yeah, bad dream, that’s all.” I’ve always been a terrible liar but he seems to fall for it this time.

   “Alright.” he shrugs. He sounds convinced enough.

   I walk over to the cupboard to take out a bowl and cereal. I don’t really eat a lot; I’m too disappointed to be hungry.

   “Matt,” I can’t believe I’m about to ask this because I have no idea how he’s going to take it. I have a hunch; I just hope I’m wrong.

   “Yeah?” he’s now busy spreading jam on the piece of toast very slowly as he speaks.

   “How do you feel…about second marriages? After mom?” I cringe at the word marriage.

   His usual, casual face turns grim. He sighs but carries on spreading.

   “You don’t know how happy I was with her,” he tells me, smiling a bit. He then frowns. Matt’s my seven year old stepfather. He’s really a great guy and he really made my mother happy. “I’m just always thinking of her. I’ll always love her.” he flashes a sad, weak smile at me and I flash an apologetic smile, also weak and a bit sad. I notice his emotions playing up again. Even he has emotions strong enough. My mother had died six months ago in a gas leak. I’m grateful enough to not remember any of it from a severe concussion. I know she loved Matt but she would always have loved Stefan, my anti-loved (by me) father. I never really think about my father that I don’t know anything about since he left us thirteen years ago after a confusing (to me) divorce. For all thirteen years that I’ve lived, fatherless, he’s been living in Europe. The only thing I know about him currently is that he is now an extremely successful author. I love reading so, without hesitation of explaining, yes––I’ve read his books on his travels to even the most remote corners of the world.