Randall K.

<!— @page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } —>

I slowly open my eyes. It seems to be a seamless transition from a state of sleep to the adolescence of the night surrounding. It was then I realized that I was laying on my back on the cold wet grass. My feet seem to be on the sidewalk, as far as I can tell. I start rolling my head from side to side, and the streetlights are blinding me slightly. Ugh, I am not liking this at all.

“How did I get here?” I thought. Soon after a frenzy of questions entered my mind, fighting each other for attention, but I slowly pushed the questions into the back of my mind. I’m not certain as to what’s going on or how I got here for the moment. All I know is that there is one sparkle of radiance looking down on me, a single star. It always makes me wonder. Even when we as a species have progressed to a point where we control light itself, trying to move beyond nature, it always makes me wonder when a single star fights through everything so that’s its glow can be seen by even the blindest of men. It gives me hope for some reason.

Painfully I get myself up and dust myself off. I take a quick look around and see the history of buildings forgotten long ago. Some are holding themselves up okay, but others have fallen to the forces of time and gravity, becoming nothing but dust. Suddenly, something clicks in my head.

“I think I know where I am,” I say to no one in particular, “So if I go this way…” and my thoughts trail off as I start to wander down the street.

* * *

It’s morning. I find myself staring at a crimson red door. I place my hand on what looks like a recent coat of paint.

“This…is right,” I say to myself. “Yeah, it’s right.” Yet my hand is still on the door, hesitant to knock. Maybe I’m afraid of what will happen, and I might not be able to go back…

I knock. I hear voices coming from inside, moving closer and closer to the door. I still have time to run, maybe I can turn back now –

Too late.

The doorknob turns, the door swings open, and in front of me stands a tall, burly man. The bags under his eyes and the frazzled gray hair stands out. His eyes widen at my sight, and they seem to be moving to the point of tears.

“…SON! SON!” the man exclaims. He immediately runs up to me and tightly embraces me. “HONEY! HE’S HOME, HE’S BACK!” he yells into the hours, where screeches come back from inside the house.

“…Dad?” I say, slightly stunned. It sounds right…I know who this man is, yet he feels like a complete stranger to me. Why?…but I don’t have any more time to think, as two women, one older, one younger, rush up and grip me in a similar fashion.

“OH WHERE WERE YOU?!” the older woman exclaims. “WE’VE BEEN SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!”

“YEAH, DON’T WORRY MOM LIKE THAT!” the younger woman yells.

“Mother?…sister?…” Yeah. That’s right. They continue to embrace me while I sort out things in my mind. Maybe because I’m having trouble feeling anything. I move my eyes upward and the three of them stare at me inquisitively. What do I say to them? My mind tells me this is my family, yet something seems wrong here. Something is off.

“I…I…” I mutter. What do I say? I could try and be honest, but I don’t know what that even means. I’ll just have to give a simple response that they won’t question. I look at the paper on the doorstop. It’s November 1^st. Okay, I think I have an idea.

“I…I must of passed out at that party last night, maybe a bit too much, heh…” I say to them. Yeah, that sounds believable. I watch their expressions turn into joy, but slight annoyance. I think they bought it.

“Son, we’re glad you’re home,” my “dad” says to me, “but don’t even think of going out for awhile, you’re grounded,” he says sternly. “Just get int and get some coffee, you need it.” All three of them move me inside while I shuffle through the front door.