Lost in time G.D E.D

64

'Good morning America, its January 1st

The radio broke through the silence.

My eyes fluttered open.

A dull energy filled the atmosphere as I found myself in an unfamiliar bed with a colorfully patterned comforter draped over me.

My migraine was back, and I tiredly put a hand to my head, groaning as I sat up.

Looking around, I widened my eyes.

Where was I?

The nightstand by my bed had an old alarm clock radio on it, which was the source of the voice currently playing.

I hit a random button on the alarm clock, turning off the radio.

The time read 6:15.

No wonder I was tired, it was so fucking early.

I looked around.

This wasn't my room. Panic swept through me.

Had I been kidnapped? Posters of all these bands, some I'd never heard of, covered the walls. I jumped as the shrill ringing of a phone echoed through the house.

Sitting on the nightstand was a landline.

Suddenly, the ringing stopped.

I slowly got up, throwing the covers back and swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

I had to arm myself.

I looked around the room for anything I could grab to hit my hostages.

Finally, I found a pair of scissors inside the desk drawer. I hid them in the pocket of my hoodie which I had worn since the night before.

As I crept out of the bedroom door, I found myself in a hallway of a very old-looking house.

Wallpaper that looked like something from my grandmother's house covered the walls. The familiar smell of waffles wafted up the stairs.

I felt my stomach rumble.

How long had it been since I ate?

I tip-toed down the stairs, the sunlight from the windows around the stairs beginning to shine through.

I practically gaped out the window.

Snow.

Why was there snow?

It was supposed to be January.

Gripping the scissors in my pocket, I got to the last step. I was in a kitchen, watching a dark-haired woman in her pink bathrobe and slippers with her back to me, putting something in a toaster.

There was a boy sitting at the kitchen table. He was tall and kind of hunched over as he read something on the back of a Kix cereal box.

Neither noticed me as I stepped into the kitchen doorway.

My first instinct was to make a mad dash for the side door that was just across from the kitchen table.