Ch. 7- The Butterfly Effect

It was dark. Very dark. Where am I? I asked myself. There were lights around me, however they only appeared as large blurs. A party of some sort? That must be it. There were people all around me, and loud music with bright lights. Suddenly the obscure party scene was shattered by a deafening sound. Are those gunshots? Someone was shooting from a car! “Get down!” I could hear someone in the distance scream. There was a sharp pain in my right arm as I felt my back hit the cold, hard, concrete. As the lights and noises faded I could hear sirens in the distance and a few figures standing over me. In the last second before total darkness, a tear drop that wasn’t mine fell on my cheek. Then, nothing…

I sat up gasping for air. I was now sitting upright in my bed. The first thing I noticed was the clean, crisp air entering my lungs. The second thing I noticed was that my eyes were wide open, and the light was too painful, so I shut them immediately. I heard my door open and someone walk in, with a male voice saying “Spencer are you OK? Your sweating. I could hear you yelling from all the way down the hall!” It was my brother, he must’ve heard me talking in my sleep. I was now squinting and could make out his shape.
“I’m fine?” I mumbled barely hearable.

“Whatever you say, whatever you say…” with that he exited my room. As I was getting dressed I could smell the bacon cooking downstairs which could either be a good thing or a bad thing. Usually my dad only cooked bacon when there was a family meeting that needed to be had; on the other hand, I like bacon! I knew what the meeting was going to be about: My mom or me. I hurried downstairs to the table and waited for the rest of the family to join. My brother must’ve been thinking the same thing because when he came downstairs he immediately said “What’s the problem?”