I
opened the door to the apartment and rushed to the bathroom to take a
cold shower. My dads wouldn't be home for at least another hour. I
ripped my clothes off. I didn't want them on. I wanted them to
disappear. I put the shower on the lowest temperature and stepped
inside the freezing water. I didn't really wash myself, I kinda just
stood there, breathing in the cold water. Rubbing it along my body.
They told me I didn't have a heartbeat. What did that mean? Did I
really die? And what about that boy? Where was he?
“Ede!
You here?”, Daddy Joe yelled from the other side of the door.
“Yeah,
why are you home so early?” I asked.
“Early?
I'm late”, he commented. “You okay?” How can he be late? How long was I unconscious?
“I'm
fine, Joe." I lied and then mutterd quietly to myself. "Just died today, the usual, Y'know?"
After
another ten minutes in the shower, I got dressed and met my dad
outside, he was sitting in front of the TV watching the news, a huge
cup of water in hand because he had heard from our neighbor that
drinking eight glasses of water a day gives you the same energy as
coffee did.
“Look,
there was a fire about four blocks from here. Did you see it while
leaving Dr-”
“No.”
I cut in before turning my back to him and grabbing something,
anything from the kitchen. “Did you?”
“Nope,
the fire was long out by the time I tried to pass that street,
thought something odd had happened, the whole street was closed off.”
“Funny”,
I muttered. I ended up grabbing some biscuits and sitting down next
to him, I could see him focus on them.
“Want
one?” I asked. His eyes flashed from the biscuits to me and then
back down to the biscuits. Dad was running for the marathon next
spring and wanted to stay fit and healthy, but he was failing
miserably.
“One
wouldn't hurt, would it?”
“I'm
not telling dad, so go ahead.” I smiled.
“Not
tell me what?” and dad was home.
“Nothing”,
we both muttered at the same time. As you may of noticed, I have two
dads. Daddy Joe and Pap.
“What
are we eating?”, Pap asked. Setting down his briefcase and
loosening his tie.
“How
about I make something?” I asked. “You guys sit down and rest,
watch some TV, and I'll cook.”
“Ede,
should we know something? Are you in trouble and we're not aware of
it?” Pap asked.
“What?
Puff. I'm an angel.” I smiled.
“Well,
if this isn't you making up for anything you burned, broke, lost,
forgot, then I'm sitting down.”
I
stood up and walked to the kitchen beside the sofa. It was a pretty
small house, but to be honest, we we're a small family. Dads always
wanted more than one kid, but with all the medication and costs I
took, I think they are having it hard with only me. Not that they
would ever say that, though.
Since
the only thing I know how to make is pasta, I started to boil some
hot water. I filled a pot with water and turned on the stove. Blue
heat emerged from it and I couldn't help but stare at it. I had no
burns before, does that mean...
I
stuck out my finger and started to go closer to the blue heat. Taking
a deep breath, I pushed my finger inside the flame. I bit my lips
trying not to shriek the pain I was having. My skin was dark red. The
kind you get if you stay all day in the burning sun. I watched it
closely but nothing happened. Gosh I was stupid. Who did I think I
was? Wolverine?
Ede,
shut up and be patient.
Patient
for what?
But
Lu was right. Slowly the pain started to heat up even more, aching
pain passing threw my finger, and then, the redness was gone, just
like the pain. Again, like I had never been burned. I stared in
disbelief. What was happening? Am I hallucination? Am I loosing my
mind? I breathed in and out and tried again, just to make sure I wasn't going crazy. I grabbed a knife and sliced a piece
from the flesh of my palm, the blood dripping on the floor, and
watched. Once again, the pain got worse before getting better and in
a matter of seconds my palm was back to the way it was. I dropped the
knife. I'm going crazy. Oh, gosh. Oh no.
“Honey...What's
going on?” Pap asked. I watched them. Should I show them? If they
could see it too? Wouldn't that mean I wasn't going crazy? Or would
they get angry? And what if I was going crazy? That meant they had to
pay more money for my stupid medications.
“Fine”,
I said before forcing my lips into a smile. I washed the blood off
the knife and the floor and resumed cooking. The rest of the evening
went pretty quickly, we ate, talked about the fire, how we were
visiting my aunt for Christmas and about my visit to the new
therapist. After I washed my own plate and bolted to my room.
I
sat on my bed and watched my palm, feeling it. If I was crazy, and I
hadn't just healed out of nowhere, then wouldn't they of noticed the
blood on my palm? And the fireman even said that I hadn't burned!
They weren't all crazy, were they? I took a deep breath before climbing into bed and closing my eyes. I had died today. And then I fell asleep.
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