Ordinarily Normal

Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I reach over to my left trying to tap the alarm clock to see the time. It is not there nor is the table it sits on. I sniff the air and cannot smell anything. Usually it is coffee I smell, even in the care home you could smell coffee which was comforting and reminded me of my parents making coffee in the morning.  I eventually open my eyes, rubbing them as they feel very heavy. I stare up at the ceiling and see a completely different ceiling to mine at home before it trigger's that I am at Izzy's. Of course I am.

I stand up and stretch, then pull the covers across the sofa.  It is eerily quiet and I dislike it. I take a step forward and the floor creaks beneath me. Izzy's mum obviously hears me and her and Izzy walk into the lounge.

'Morning.' says Izzy.

'Morning.' I sign back.

Maria says that breakfast is going to be cooked soon. We have pancakes, I can smell them. I think about how if humans couldn't smell our life would be immensely different. It would be like there was a hole in our chest missing that fifth sense. Or what about that sixth sense. The sixth sense is magic I think. Pure magic. It is little traces of magic that us humans have like maybe we happen to be really good at predicting or reading minds. Maybe our minds have a little section which is laid out for our sixth sense and some peoples sense never arises but some do. I am going off on a tangent this is useless. To be thinking about all of this magical information in the state of things seems  a bit of a sin.

I forget about the sixth sense and take a seat at the kitchen table and glance around. The walls are painted this teal colour which I cannot decide whether it is blue or green it is teetering on the edge. The worktops are this light brown mahogany which looks beautiful. I imagine in the summertime when the sun is leaking through the windows it is a very relaxing place.  Maria places the pancakes on the table which is already laid out with toppings and crockery.  The smell wafts up my nose and I suddenly feel relaxed like the pancakes have a drug in them causing my stress to be sucked out. American style pancakes are my favourite type of pancakes and I'm lucky enough to know that Maria has served up American pancakes. Stacked on top of one another with golden syrup drizzling down the sides and a few  blueberries placed as a garnish very elegantly. I gesture for Izzy to take the first one. she carefully slips it off the top and I take the one below. We sit in silence not conversing at all during breakfast until I say that I am supposed to be going on a scout camp in precisely a week.

'I doubt I will be able to go. Not after what's happening at the moment.' I say rather melancholy.

'Dyl's, I think it would take you away from this hell if you went.' she replies. This makes me wonder and actually it would. I would see Percy. I would forget momentarily and enjoy the camping trip. I would live life.

After the breakfast I say a huge thank you to Maria and Izzy and I walk out into the lounge. We sit next to each other and Izzy lets me lay my head on her shoulder. For such a slim person she has a very comforting shoulder and I could go to sleep right here. We begin talking about my parents and I say 'I want to find them Izzy, they need finding, soon.'

She inhales deeply and signs 'I don't  think it is a great idea Dylan.'

I give her a look as if to say 'yeah and you think I am going to change my mind.' Iz knows me well enough now to know that I am not one for change. she nods and I guess accepts it. We decide to plan as soon as Maria goes out to the supermarket.

As Maria waves goodbye through the window , waving her hand which is connected to  one tiny little string bracelet, that I learnt Izzy made for her, I shut the door. It is now. We must plan this search now. We discuss how to get a method of search ready. 

I stand up and go over to Izzy's newspaper rack hoping against hope that I find the newspaper article about the accident. Was it an accident?

Izzy 'What are you doing Dyl's?'

'Looking...' I reply.

'For what?'

'A newspaper file.' I sign rather hastily.

'What, Dyl's I thought we were supposed to be planning.'

'This is planning' I reply sharply.

Then I find it, the newspaper article I had been looking for. The same words echo through my brain ricocheting from left to right. 'Car found with bullet marks along the side in North Yorkshire ; bodies nowhere to be found.'

'This is it Izzy.'

'Is what?'

'The information, look that is my parents car, my parents number plate and the  little artificial flower sitting on the dashboard is theirs too, Izzy don't you see.'

'What do I not see.'

'We need to go there. Now! this will  be our first point to finding  them, if we find the  car there maybe some clues as to what is going on, please Izzy, please.'

'Dyl's this is going to  sound harsh but if they're alive, why would they stay there?'

'I...I don't know.' My eyes prick with tears and I feel helpless. I turn away from her and look up to the ceiling letting the tears drain away. I'm filled with this emotion of guilt and sadness yet I feel completely empty. I feel like a funeral song, sad and echoing through the church. Empty. A huge void of nothing slicing my two lungs in half. I am broken.  All I hear is the persistent sound of one piano note. Playing over and over consistently. I shout out loud and place both hands on my heart listening for the beat. This is not me or my life. Please, please wake up. Izzy doesn't hear it but she can see the pain in my eyes as I turn round. I sit down on the sofa and rake my hands through my hair. Izzy sits next to me with about five inches between us.

I hear a ringing. I think I am going insane before realising it is a wind chime whistling. There is a heavy wind out there and a storm coming in. We walk over to the window and watch the black clouds draw in around us. Rain drops on the window sill and it looks cold and bitter outside. The sky is almost lowering I feel claustrophobic in this world  of  ours. I breathe a deep breath in and then out trying to calm my thumping heart. My heart is trying to rip itself out. It sounds like a drum being smashed with a drumstick. Heavy and low.

'We will find them Izzy.' I demand.

'Where on earth do we begin Dyl's?'

'I don't know.'

'Don't you see Dylan, that is hardly much to go on is it... In fact it's nothing, we don't know where they are'

'I don't care, we will find them.'