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 Regret

chapter five

Wit 

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Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep

The alarm blared through the room like a siren. Mmm. Peeking through my fatigue crusted eyes, I was immediately blinded by the morning light. It crashed into my feeble eyes, and I had no choice but to rush under the cover for protection. 

Why did I do that? Tears soaked my hands as I rubbed the pain away from my poor wronged eyes. That really smarts. I need an optometrist. 

Building up the courage, I decided it was time to see what time it was. If it was before ten, I was gonna go back to bed. If it was after ten...then I'd still go back to bed. 

Taking a handfull of the outer edge of my thick comforter, I lifted the cover. Just a fraction Wit. The alarm was angled just above the height I laid at, so a fraction became a gaping hole in my defense. 

Opening my eyes to the sun's torment, I quickly took a look at the alarm and ducked back into my crevice.

My eyes. They burned. But I completed my mission.

It's ten o’clock.

Ugh. Letting out a long drawn-out groan, I was about to go back to sleep. But when I opened the sheets, a beautful smell trickled through the gap, and consumed my senses. The smell made me fling my covers off in a flurry and sit upright.

"There's only one smell this amazingly thick, this beautifully burned, this exquisitely greasy" I was possessed by my nose. Because it smelled "Bacon".

I swung my legs over the king size bed and threw my pajamas on, just some shorts and a loose t-shirt, for breakfast. Slipping my house shoes on, I hesitated. Something was nagging at me. What was it?

Shrugging my shoulders, I walked to the door, stepping around a large bedroom floor full clothes. Crap. Mom didn't let the maids into my room for some reason and I knew she was gonna flip when she saw all the clean clothes on the floor, so before she could see anything, I made plans to clean everything up after breakfast. I smiled to myself, aren’t I the smartest?

Opening the door, I walked down the glass stairs, and was immediately hit by a wave of nostalgia: bacon grease cooking and eggs being seasoned with salt and pepper, metal pans clanking on the stove, grease sizzling, and a knife slamming against a wood cutting board.

And I paused mid-step. Why was that nostalgic?

“Wit! It’s time to eat!” A woman called from downstairs. I smiled.

“I’m coming mom!” I hurried down the rest of the steps and made my way to the kitchen, where everything was made of glass and sterling silver; the stoves, the drawers, and the fixtures were all shining metals. The only colored things in the kitchen were the white tabletops and the glossy black floor.

“Sit down buddy, we’re making the table.” A deep voice told me.

Nodding my head, I said, “Okay dad” and took a seat at the dinner table. No, I guess it’s the breakfast table for right now.

Excitedly kicking my feat from underneath my seat, I watched my parents prepare everything. Mom finished cooking the food, and she was setting what was done onto large glass plates. From there dad went back and forth from the the kitchen to the table, with the plates, seasonings, napkins, and utensils.

I giggled at how odd it was seeing a man his size carrying glass plates so carefully. He looked like a soldier with his towering height and broad muscles. Keeping his hands open, he had to focus to keep his large hands from breaking anymore dishes. One time, he accidentally squeezed a plate too hard and it shattered, leaving shards laying all over the floor. Mom was so pissed, she threw an egg at him and made sure he cleaned everything up. Yeah, you don't mess with mom.

This morning, he was wearing the same outfit I was: gym shorts and a large grey t-shirt. I knew I got my good fashion sense from someone. “Nice pajamas dad.” I grinned, and gave him a thumbs up. He smiled back, “You too, buddy.” He laughed and ruffled my hair, setting down a plate of hashbrowns in the middle of the table.

“Jason, hurry over here and get this plate.” Mom called, from the kitchen. We both turned around to see her struggling with a long plate of bacon. Her hands were shaky and the plate was tilting over, and just as it was about to spill, dad rushed in and angled it back up, taking the plate from her hands. “I’ve got it Tiff.” He told her, placing the plate on the table.

“Thanks, babe.” She smiled at dad. When she looked at him, her pale blue eyes sparkled, and she pushed her black brunette hair behind her ear.

“Gross.” I made a fake puke noise. “Get a room.” I complained.

She rolled her eyes, and thumped the back of my head. “Shut up and eat.” She laughed, taking a seat next to dad at the table.

“Don’t mind if I do.” I said, stuffing my face full of bacon

"Ahh." My taste buds did a jig in my mouth.

“Ahh. It’s so good.” I drooled.

“Ew, stop.” Mom laughed, “Keep it in your mouth babe, that’s gross.” She handed me a napkin.

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“Sowwy.” I wiped my mouth, and dove right back into my plate.

From beside me I heard a deep voice sigh. “Hun,” he shook his head, “are you sure he’s as smart as his teachers say? He’s drooling on himself.”

Ouch, mom defend me.

“Well, that’s what they say” she shrugged. “I don’t see it.” She shook her head, and together they shared an exaggerated sigh.

“Hey!” I jokingly protested, and we broke into laughter. Mom rolled her eyes and patted my hand. “Seriously though babe, we’re so proud of you.” Her face lit up, “You’re at the top of your class!” She squealed.

Basking in the glory, I raised my nose and crossed my arms. “Of course I am.” I spoke imperiously, and this time both of them rolled their eyes. God, I hope their eyes get stuck in the back of their head one day.

“I’m to be taken seriously.” I assured myself, while I wiped another puddle of drool from my lip.

“Of course, of course” my dad appeased, and we continued eating.

I really miss this.

There it was again. What was I missing? Everything was here. Racking my brain, I didn’t know what it was, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something just...wasn’t right.

My dad’s smile turned to a frown, as he thought of something. “Witlin.” He got my attention. “Ara aeui suems su ba?” He asked me.

“...Huh?”

“Honey, don’t say huh.” My mom corrected. “What are you supposed to say?”

What’s going on? What is he saying? My head hurts; it's like something is clawing at my brain.

“It’s alright.” Dad waved my mother off, and looked back at me. “Are you going to be alright by yourself?” He asked again.

By myself? 

He looked at me and sighed. “Remember? I told you, me and your mom were going on a business trip?”

And that’s when I realized what was wrong.

None of this was really happening.

My body continued on, while I sat on the sidelines of my own mind, watching my body replay a memory.

“Oh, I remember” I smiled.

Don’t smile.

“You guys are gonna be leaving for a few days to go to New York.”

It won’t be a few days.

They both nodded, and my mom rubbed my head, “a-are you gonna be alright honey?” She sniffled.

Mom please don’t cry.

I rolled my eyes. “Mom” I said, bringing the dishes into the kitchen.

Don't say it.

“I can’t wait till I get some alone time.”

No, you don’t!

She perked up and smiled. “Yea,” she wiped her tears, and laughed. “You're a big boy now. You don’t need us.”

Please stay...I still need you!

Mom and I cleaned the table, while dad went upstairs to grab their luggage. When we finally finished the dishes, dad had moved the last bag, and we all gathered at the door. Dad placed his large hand on my head, and stroked my hair to the side.

This is what I missed.

“Okay bud, we’re heading out.” He kissed my forehead, giving me to my mom. As soon as she looked at me, the waterworks started again. “I’m gonna miss you.” She cried.

I miss you too mom!

I rolled my eyes, “I’m gonna see you again in a few days, so stop crying.”

No, you won’t! You'll never see her again!

She let out a huff, and brought me into a tight hug. “I’m crying because I love you silly!” She sobbed into my neck.

I-I love you too mom. I wish I’d said it back then. Dammit, just say it!

“Okay, okay, okay.” I struggled to pry her off me. “Yea mom, I get it.”

No you don’t! You have no idea how much she loved you! How much she worked for you!

“You love me.” I threw my hands up. “Who doesn’t?”

Don’t joke around, say you love her!

She giggled, and wiping an errant tear, she reluctantly let go.

Please, don’t go. Mom. Dad.

I was crying, while my body feigned indifference. As they were walking out of the door, mom turned around, and blew me one last kiss.

Mom!

She winked at me. “We’ll be back in a few days, bye honey.”

The planes gonna crash! Please don’t go! 

I crossed my arms and said my final “goodbye,” as she turned around, and walked to the door.

No! I don’t want this to be goodbye! Don’t leave! Stay here! My mind was crying out, but I couldn’t do anything, as I lived through my biggest regret: I never said I loved her.

She finally walked out, and the door slowly closed behind her.

Please! Stay with me! I can’t do this alone! I need you! Plea-slam! The door closed.

My eyes opened, and I lunged in front me, clinging to a memory. I pulled her into the hardest hug I’d ever given, and cried into her shoulder.

“Please, don’t leave me.”