Words

Two

I rubbed my eyes while sitting in the chair, wondering if the buzz of information flowing through my body was a hallucination from being half-sleep. We were in the office so that Mom could take me home.

The secretary she was talking to was wearing red circular glasses with a sleek teal suit that complimented her olive-toned skin. "Sign here, please," the woman instructed, nearly putting me to sleep with her dull, droning voice.

A pen angrily scratching against a slip of paper instead caught my attention. Its strokes somehow calmed me, shoving my anxiety away and letting a sense of tranquility seep under my skin. Still, what was that? Why did all of those numbers and voices and images suddenly appear in my head?

I wasn't able to follow all of what was scattered in my brain, except for the fact that they were all related to math. Specifically, the y-intercept equation. This isn't making sense. All of this nonsensical knowledge gave me a headache that I didn't need. Was that an illusion? Was someone doing a magic trick? Is today April Fool's Day?

"Ziv? You sleep?" Mom's hand landed on my shoulder, gently bringing me to reality.

"I'm fine, fine. Just trying to remember what happened when I passed out."

Mom gave a smile that mirrored my confusion. "Well, I'm not sure, Sweetie. But don't worry too much about it. The nurse said that you were dehydrated, so you're going to rest today, okay?"

It was then that I noticed the pen stopped moving. Reluctantly, I nodded. This has to be a dream. "Okay."

On the way home, Mom interrogated me. "Did you drink enough water? Are you feeling sick? Should I take you to the hospital?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. I'm just a little hungry."

"Ah, well I'll make some saganaki for you."

Somehow, I had the feeling that the appetizer wouldn't fill me. "Can you make some dolmadakia instead?"

"Sure, I just hope that we have some grape leaves left."

I laughed at the memory of Dad praising Mom for her culinary skills while proceeding to stuff a dolmades down his throat. Yet, the thought of food didn't make me feel as excited as it did before. How odd.

Once we reached our house at the end of the street, we got out the car and headed to the sidewalk. The winter breeze nipping at my ears caused a shiver to crawl down my spine when Mom pulled out the key and ushered me inside.

A sigh of relief left my parted lips at the entrance that encased me in warmth.

"The food'll be ready soon," she chimed after throwing her peacoat on the couch. "If I don't have enough ingredients then I'll go to the store real quick. So sit tight, okay? Mama'll take good care of you."

I tilted my head with furrowed eyebrows. "But what about work?" It was nice of her to take care of me, but I didn't want her to get fired.

She waved her hand to push away my worries. "They let me leave early since it was an emergency. I'll just have to work a bit more next week," she concluded with a tired smile before turning to me. "Now go brush your teeth."

I nodded. "Okay." I'm starting to think that this is all too real. It's too... vivid to be a dream.

When Mom headed to the kitchen I went upstairs. Why would I hallucinate, though? I looked at my bloated stomach in confusion. I'm not even hungry, but I don't remember eating breakfast this morning.

"Maybe this is a symptom of a disease or something," I muttered while opening the door to the bathroom. I flicked the light on with an aggrevated sigh. Or maybe I was going crazy.