Echo Chamber (GIFT, non-canon origin story)

Hypnic Jerk

She sat at the shortened table as it wobbled. The legs messily cut from when I'd taken Dad's old machete and tried sawing the wood down. ...Dad, he hasn't been around for a while, but I can't leave to look for him. I have to stay with Rachel, my sis. If I leave, like Dad did, she'd probably have trouble looking after herself; so it's my job to take care of us. I don't think I'd have to "protect her" from anything, we live on a pretty peaceful portion of land, near a cliff and a thick brush of woodlands, to the opposite of that is a hill, almost perfectly segregating us from civilization. I imagine it'd be difficult for her to get to any form of city and buy food, let alone who she'd... encounter. I glanced at my surroundings, almost feeling watched. At the foot of the table sat a doll, identical to me in appearance. I rolled my eyes at the uneven stitching and the crude, serrated edges of fabric  woven together. It's left button eye was even falling off, it seemed. Other dolls decorated the scenery surrounding the table, but none caught my attention.

"Hurry up, Samuel!" Her voice snapped me from my thoughts as I recoiled, blinking my eyes in surprise, looking down I saw my sister. Same as ever, though obviously annoyed with me for... whatever reason. She tapped her foot, waiting for me.

"What? I'm here, aren't I?" I could only play off my distracted nature sarcastically, I squint my eyes as I bring my right hand to the back of my head. The quick scratch of my fingers brought ease to the tension forming from the back of my mind.

"You were supposed to bring the tea! You probably didn't even put water on, I bet!" That pout of hers was cute, but accompanied by her loud voice? I don't think I have as much patience for. I immediately place my palm on her face, snickering "I bet you wasted all day drawing with crayons."

Before she could make another rebuttal, I quickly turned and sped away towards the kitchen, making sure to grab Mom's porcelain teapot and a kettle from the top shelf. The teapot was somewhat old, but it was well made. Normally we only use it for special occasions... but Dad wasn't here right now and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. A twist to the knob of the faucet and in the water went. The sound of it hitting the bottom of the kettle brought a nice serene melody to the otherwise quiet room. The window before me was closed as I held the kettle, prompting me to quickly move my free hand and push open the curtains. A familiar landscape of trees greeted me as storm clouds began to settle upon the horizon. I leaned down, looking into the clean sink as thoughts began to fill my empty head. Did I lock all the doors? Close all the windows? All the rooms are clean, maybe another look over wouldn't hurt. Dad wouldn't want things to be a mess when he gets back, right? A strong wave of heat and pressure greeted the back of my head, almost like it was pushing me downwards. I need to do my best to clean everything. I need to, it's my job as the only guy here to take care of Rachel, it's my only job, I need to, I need to, I need to take care of her!

Cold water greeted my hand as the rush of the water greeted my ears again. I nervously glanced around, the weight atop my head lifted as the atmosphere around me felt heavy, leaving me in discomfort as I put the kettle atop the stove, shoving firewood in quickly after, and moved back towards the window. I grabbed a spare bucket kept next to the counter and filled it with water as well, just in case of an emergency. A habit my dad made me adopt. The trees dance before the clearing of our home. I felt numb as I glanced around, tense, but... emotionally empty. What else do I need to do? Bathroom cleaning is done, I got us firewood, Dad left his wallet, I could use the money from it and go buy us more food if need be. It's odd. As much as I wanted to ponder my father's disappearance, I doubt there was anything I could do to somehow help him. I had to stay with Rachel, I have to, my father would be more upset at me for leaving her than leaving him to do... whatever it is he's doing.

To that, I heard his voice.

"Rachel, Samuel! Rachel, Samuel!" It should've been impossible to hear him, that's what I should've realized, but I could hear him perfectly fine. It wasn't coming from any distinct place, not necessarily from any room in the house, but almost like it sounded as if he were next to me, like he was shouting to the outside.