Chapter 3: A child's plea
As I walked into the room, I was met with a sight that left me breathless. My parents, standing together in the same space, was a miracle in itself. I hadn't seen them together like this in what felt like an eternity.
"Mom... Dad. W-what's going on?" I stuttered, confusion etched on my face.
My dad turned to me, his expression a mask of indifference. "Dad...? Why?" I asked, my words tumbling out in a desperate bid for answers.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Like I'm some stranger. What's wrong?" I pressed on, my questions falling on deaf ears.
"Are you mad at me? Is it because I've been avoiding my responsibilities?" I asked, my voice cracking with desperation.
"If so... I'll do it! I'll take care of everything," I promised, my grip on my chest tightening.
"Mom, tell Dad that I always do what I say I will," I pleaded, but my words were met with an unsettling silence.
"Why aren't you saying anything? When your son is speaking, Dad!" I shouted, demanding a response.
My dad's expression turned cold, his voice low and distant. "Will you just stop, Johann?"
"Stop what?" I asked, confusion and desperation swirling inside me.
"Stop saying that word," my dad replied, his eyes narrowing.
"What word?" I pressed on, my mind racing.
My dad's silence was deafening. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty.
"Dad, tell me what word!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls.
But my dad's response was a slap in the face. "I'm not your dad!" he spat, his anger and resentment hanging in the air like a challenge.
My world came crashing down around me. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, unable to breathe. My knees gave out, and I collapsed to the floor with a resounding thud.
As I lay there, struggling to breathe, I couldn't help but think that this was the end. That I was dying, alone and unloved.
But as I gazed up at my mom, I saw her turn away from me, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and guilt. Even she didn't want to help me.
My mind was a jumble of thoughts, a cacophony of fear and despair. I felt like I was trapped in a never-ending nightmare, with no escape.
Time lost all meaning as I lay there, my consciousness slipping in and out of reality. Was this real? Was I dreaming?
The only sound I could hear was my own voice, echoing in my mind.
"Please... forgive me. Please... help me."
Over and over again. The plea repeated, a haunting refrain that echoed through my mind, again and again, until it became a maddening chant.
I listened to my own desperate cries, the words blurring together in a jumbled mess of fear and desperation.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything went black.
When I came to, I was gasping for air, my heart racing like a jackrabbit. But as I looked around, I realized that I was alone in my room. It had all been a dream.
Or had it?
I repeated the words to myself, like a mantra. "A dream... it was only a dream." But the memory of that nightmare lingered, refusing to be shaken.
I held myself, tears streaming down my face as I rocked back and forth, trying to comfort myself. "It's just a dream," I whispered, my voice barely audible. But the fear and desperation lingered, a constant reminder of the fragility of my own sanity.