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Prologue

People always say I'm just like my father. We look the same, act the same, and we even have the same strange habits. For instance, we both wake up at the same time every night (somewhere around 12:15 or so) for a late night snack. We'd both eat a bowl of cereal and watch a baseball game we had recorded or play some video game I'm terrible at. And by 12:30, we're both back in bed.

The thing is, my father passed away 2 years ago. He was a firefighter. He lost his life saving someone else's. I use that as the reason I didn't cry at his funeral. I'm simply incapable of crying.

So here I am, 12:18 on a Saturday night. Sitting on my bed, eating a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch. I keep looking at myself in the mirror. I can see the resemblance. We both have dirty blonde hair and big brown eyes and goofy smiles that people claim "are contagious". I'd give anything to see my fathers smile one more time.

After finishing my bowl, I take it back to the kitchen and return to my attic bedroom. We have a relatively small house. It's just my mom and me now. It gets pretty lonely. I crawl back into my bed and stare at the clock on my nightstand. At 12:30, I turn off my lamp and go to sleep.