Chapter 7: Chapter 5: New Mornings, breakfast, and some plans for the day – Beyond the Dark – Part 4

 

Hey, Author here. Wanted to say, I’m reading DC lore, and upping the word count. I try to write as well I as I do try, so please give some criticism. Thanks, enjoy the Chap.  

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“Speech” 

Thought 

[Online communication] 

{Telepathy} 

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(MC POV) 

 

Oh shit. 

Forgot about that. 

Seriously, I need to make sure I don’t overlook these things twice; Can’t be snuck up on, especially in DC of all places. I mean, was breakfast what it took to lower my guard? Seriously, I’m really dizzy.. 

Well, I guess that’s why I need breakfast, right? Can’t skip the second-best meal of the day! 

.. 

‘Family’, huh. 

I can’t tell what the relationship between ‘me’ and this person is, but I’ll go with the common ones: Sister, Mother. Caretaker? 

Unlikely... unless... 

No. It can’t be. 

“M-morning Mom”

I have to check, I have to make sure! 

A shocked look lapses the red heads face before she grins madly. She takes the momentary attention from breakfast to twist herself towards me. Still holding what now looks like a joy filled smile. 

“Morning hun! slept well my little night owl?” she spoke softly, calmly, keeping that smug but enviable grin on while moving back to her cooking, then setting the plates and putting her attention on me. Her side profile described a beautiful, cheerful woman with curly hair, southern spoken words and even nice crystal earrings to go with. She looks like she’s in her 30’s, though I can’t tell by the constant fuzzing of lights. 

Which were oddly too bright. Guess my senses improved, though a tad bit sudden; Should have at least let me have some rest.. 

Oh well. 

Back to convo. 

I had ensured that I was not an orphan, which is good. Number one priority is not to be an orphan, for various reasons. Every damn orphan in DC becomes a hero in some way, which mean Brucie is going to show up on my front door with red and yellow spandex the moment that happens. 

Second is, in all situations, it leads to a montage. Either training, revenge, etc. I’ll be DAMNED if I ever get a montage! HEAR ME WRITTER, NO MONTAGE!  

Back to mother. 

“I had mild insomnia. Feel a bit hungrier than usual.” I said, quite curious of my situation. This was an interesting progression so far, one that may decide whether I have to ‘deal with’ my newer family. Maybe it’s the beginning to a shitty Netflix series. 

Either way. Before any proverbial but really literal homicide occurs, I might want to organize a few- 

---Growllll--- 

My stomach seemed to disagree with my, very patient might I add, procrastinating self. I am enjoying the smell of breakfast, eggs and cheese, mild ham and spices. Not chili, like green spices, green onions, those spices. But I’d still choose dinner any time over. Rosemary and eggs are wonderful, but rosemary and marinated and grilled chicken breast is just, 'Chef's kiss'.

I’m a dinner fan, sue me. 

My ‘mother’ looks over to me with odd expression in her eyes, probably wondering if there was an earthquake nearby. A slight frown appears on her face, then she looks over after pinching the bridge atop her nose.

“You shouldn't have gone to bed without dinner Danny. I mean really” she sighed, suddenly exhausted. -“Well, you’re a growing boy and I’m a cooking genius, so help yourself. My treat!”. The last part was cheekier than the rest of her talk. I paid it no mind though, my hunger is, outrageously enough, fighting against both me and my patience. 

A nice plate of eggs sat in front of me.

Not an omelette, but the classic sunny-side. Garnished with what looked like meat or turkey bacon on the side, burnt to the slightest degree, then paired along with green onions, thyme and other soft spices, all added with a nice homemade.. butter sauce.

Wow. 

This thing looked delectable.

I think my stomach is suddenly calm.

Which is very, very weird. I’ve never felt so hungered, famished. 

I single bite in, Fork and knife style, and I tear the damn thing apart. Violently, like a cow's carcass under the full moon. Wolves sinking their fangs, teething at tearing and stretching the flesh right off.

I’m still using a fork and knife, therefore it's still classy. 

My mother is looking like she saw a dead squirrel being canabolised, but she seems to compose herself after a few moments. 

Well, if she was as hungry as me, she would have eaten the damn table. 

Speaking of table, it has a beautiful varnish, honestly, I didn’t notice before. The plates, utensils, even the fucking cloth looks delectable. Everything seems very.. Rich, with a capital R. It doesn’t look too exquisite, at least not like those millionaire playboy mansions you see on MTV. But still, looks really damn expensive. Though, I wonder who decorated the place; It all feels so fancy. 

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The kitchen’s eating place, cooking place and its very large side view of what I see to be the living room, must all exceed a ballroom of a small mansion in square meters. Might be an over exaggeration but still. 

The kitchen is furnished with marble and oak, while the living room looks white and oak. A pearlescent white on the walls, and like the kitchen's drawers and cabinets, an oak flooring and various objects similar in design. The main couch and TV faced the other direction of the kitchen, and had a window directly to its right. There's a back yard outside, and it looks very black.. Its very vast in the day..

Wait, what time is it? Let me just-

[8:00 AM]; My smart-watch reads.

Wait, I have a watch? Why the hell is it so early?! Why did I even check the damn thing? 

Somethings wrong. Sorry to interrupt the breakfast prelude, but my mind is acting too different. I know I'm casual about small things, but why am I acting like everything's normal.

..Do I still have some habits from that kid.

Scary. 

Didn’t I use a request to ensure I didn’t have my mind tampered with? What the hell?! 

I really wanna know what's happening-

My mother finally brings her plate over to the table, seems my paranoia didn’t go easily unnoticed.  

“Is everything ok?” She said, “You look kind of stressed.” A worried tone, to the likes I didn't know of, spoke to me. 

“I-” before I spoke, I had to think. Was everything really, ok? A tad bit concerned about the whole ‘following someone's habits’ “I’m fine, just a tad bit tired.” I speak, now equally soft to her caring voice. Softly. Soft. It fee-

---PINCH-- 

Snap out of it. Somethings definitely wacky, and I ain’t gonna let it fuck with me. 

My mind’s fog needs to move out of my way. I focus with as much focus as I can. 

keeping my mind as me.

Only me.

I feel clearer, but still hazy.

Somethings in my head, and I’m not getting rent. 

“A mild migraine.” I speak, to let her know that I’m alright. It seems that I’m thinking and acting faster than normal. Like a trained soldier. “Well, atleast it isn’t a runny nose” She chuckled, though judging from my reaction, confusion mostly, she quickly changed the subject. “So, excited for next week?” She beams. She seems more excited than I should be. 

“For what?” I speak, quickly realizing that I may have done a big no no. 

“For the parade festival! We’ve been waiting for this for a whole month now, how could you forget?” She says, insulted? By my lack of consideration. “It's right on the best week of the year!” She continues. “Honestly, how could you forget! HunieBun, you sure your memory’s doing alright? ~” Her playful manner of speaking, and her cheekiness leads me to think this is teasing. Not to mention her stress on the ‘sure’; 

 

I yawn, trying to get back into ‘my’ habits, ensuring whatever is in my skull calms down, though I do try not to push too many buttons. 

“I’m fine~ just sleepy~” I say in my half daze. Though her furrowed brows make me concerned. 

“That won’t do you lazy toot, we need to get you up and going!” Oh no.

“Where?” I ask still half asleep; Barley awake.

She lets out a horrifying grin, “For the best week of your life of course!” She utters, as a chill settles on my spine; This can be interpreted in two ways, judging from her cheekiness, its either actual fun, or torture in its fundamentals. I’m guessing it’s the former. 

Which is good, since the latter is horrifying. 

‘School’ 

I won't even mention it. 

“I see.” I leave a questioning look, and she responds, “Movies, outings and all the nightly things one can do! Even Candy! Isn't it awesome” she says with enough enthusiasm to kickstart the communist revolution. 

“Yeah, awesome” I reply to her cheer.

..

wouldn’t like to let some good times go to waste.. 

.

 ....

Lets hope that wherever the hell I am isn't some type of danger magnet.

 

 

 

 

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