𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 ━ transformers

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

Recently, sleep has brought me a dark void of endless nothingness. There have been no dreams, no nightmares to wake me during the night. I'm not sure if I should be grateful or suspicious.

Friday, I wake up to Mom fussing over me, telling me that she's going to pick my prescription up after work and that I shouldn't worry about going to school today. She makes sure to be extra stern about it, though.

"But Monday," she decides, "you're going back. I can't have you missing anymore days."

I nod groggily, my mind hazy with the fog of slumber. My eyes squint up at her in all her lawyer glory as she frowns down at me. I yawn loudly.

"Got it," I mumble. "No more missing. Cool. Can I sleep now?"

Her face softens in my disoriented vision. She ruffles my hair. "Of course, honey. Get all the sleep you need. Owen's going to stay home from the base to watch over you, okay? Maybe you should spend some time and talk to him?" Her tone holds a very blatant suggestion, almost a plea, really.

I want to tell her that it's not a good idea, leaving us in the same house alone, but I'm too overcome with the need to sleep that I just nod. Mom takes this accordingly and smiles at me. I yawn again.

"Alright, alright," she grumbles lightheartedly. "I'm leaving." Mom kisses my forehead. "Have a good day."

"Mhm." I hum but I'm already nodding off.

My face hits the pillow and I'm asleep before she even closes the door.

When I wake the second time, there's a chill in my room from the opened window. Autumn is coming faster than I had imagined. Well, technically the season has arrived, considering it was almost the second week of October, but the chills and falling leaves don't usually come until the later part of the month.

Looking out, I can see that the leaves are changing from a leafy green to crisp yellows and burnt oranges. It takes my breath away.

A pinprick of pain shoots through me as I detach myself from my bed and go shut the ajar window. Alfonzo snores away on my bed as I leave the room, feet heavy in my booty slippers.

It's probably about noon, I deduct, as soon as I walk into the kitchen. I pluck up a banana and start munching on it as the television in the living room echoes into the kitchen. My lips purse.

Mom did mention that Dad was home. I'm prepared for him to come into the kitchen any moment now and find me sitting at the counter chilling. He'll either be highly terrified for his life or mine. It'll be great.

But I also don't want him here. If anything, I'd rather have Ron watching over me--even after the whole fiasco last night. (What that was about, I don't know. But I'm determined to make things right if I did something wrong.)

At least, with Ron, it's easier. He gives me his full attention, never ignores me, and speaks truthfully: three things Dad doesn't know how to do.

So, yeah, I'm a little apprehensive to be stuck alone in a house with a man who feels like a complete stranger to me. But if he offered. . . .

The banana peel falls in the garbage with a clunk. I yawn as I stretch out my creaky limbs, standing on wobbly legs to make my way back up the stairs to get some more sleep. (Probably not a good thing considering I've sleep most of the week away and I have to go back to school on Monday.) (And none of my assignments are done but oh well. At least my priorities are straight.)

Spongebob's laughter reverberates through the house as I head towards the stairs. I roll my eyes at his choice of show. Always a child, my dad was. Never missed the chance to turn on a cartoon if he could.