The Infected: Blog Story (2)

Two: Eggs for Breakfast

I’m running around in circles wearing a very odd hat on top of my curly brown hair. I’m just about to trip when my eyes dart open and I jolt upright in my bed, pearls of glittering sweat beading down my neck. I have gooseflesh. I lazily remove the damp sheets off of me and roll out of bed. I notice it’s still dark outside and judging by the silence I figure it’s roughly four in the morning. Today is September 2^nd and it’s my first day at Del Rio County High. I have been dreading this day since I graduated from junior high back in June.

While most of the kids my age were anxious to finally enter the “big school” as my father called it, I was not anticipating this day at all. Firstly, I am the school mascot but I don’t wear a suit and people mostly laugh at me rather then with me. Secondly, I will not be sharing classes with David since he is heading to the all-boy school several miles from Del Rio.

As I make my way towards the stairs and run over my excuses to stay home from school, I am suddenly distracted by an odd sound coming from the kitchen. I pass what used to be my parents room and notice the time on the clock. 5h32. Later then I thought.

I creep down the stairs to the main living room and still can’t make out the source of the noise. It almost sounds like metal scratching against metal. I walk by the door to the basement and notice the lights are out. Grams must be sleeping. I’m getting braver as I approach the galley kitchen. The swinging door is swaying slightly as I put my hand on it and push it open.

Grams is whipping up some eggs and is caught off guard by my sudden appearance.

“Jesus Christ, Charlie, you scared the living daylight out of me” Grams manages to say between gasps. She rests the bowl on the counter and glares at me.

“I thought you were sleeping” I answer, walking up to her and giving her my morning hug. “What are you making?”

“Scrambled eggs. I thought you might like that for your first day. What are you doing up so early?” Grams returns to whisking the eggs. I make my way around her and grab some apple juice from the refrigerator.

“I couldn’t sleep. Hey why didn’t you buy some Drake apple juice?” I ask after taking a good swig straight from the container. It was just another generic brand juice that tasted very bitter and little of apple. I shudder.

Grams stops whisking for a split-second and her expression changes but only for a bit. She smiles and looks back at me.

“They were sold-out” She answers and pours the egg mixture into the sizzling pan.