Chapter 2: Breakfast and the Beginning of the Unexplainable
Joey took a deep breath, the aroma of the cornmeal cake mingling with the tension that always accompanied him when he left his room. He descended the stairs slowly, each step a small test of courage.
In the kitchen, his father, Roberto, was sitting at the table, the newspaper spread in front of him, grumbling about local politics.
Clara moved between the stove and the table, serving coffee, her smile widening when she saw Joey.
"Joey! So glad you came down, son," she said, her voice a counterpoint to her husband's scowl.
Roberto lowered his newspaper, his eyes meeting Joey's for an instant before returning to the news. "Humph," was his only greeting.
Joey sat down in silence, accepting the slice of cake his mother offered him. The atmosphere was heavy, as always.
Léo, with his morning absence, left a void that Joey felt intensely – his brother's presence, though sometimes intimidating with his confidence, also served as a kind of shield against their father's negativity.
"So," Roberto began, without taking his eyes off the newspaper, "are you going to spend the day locked in your room again, 'researching' your things on the internet?" The tone was laden with sarcasm.
Joey shrugged, a familiar wave of discomfort washing over him. He often felt people had difficulty understanding his line of reasoning, and his father's words stung, echoing his own internal doubts about his worth and decisions.
"I have an appointment this afternoon, Dad."
"An appointment. Right," he grumbled. "Back in my day, a real man faced his problems head-on, didn't go complaining to doctors."
"Roberto, please," Clara intervened, her voice firm but gentle. "We've talked about this."
A veiled argument began between his parents, something so routine that Joey had almost become immune to it, if not for the pang of guilt he always felt, as if he were the pivot of their discord.
He focused on the cake, chewing slowly, his gaze fixed on his plate, withdrawing into himself as he often did when stressed.
He detested confrontation and always tried to maintain peace, and these moments made him long even more for a world without such small, daily conflicts, a world where understanding his own feelings and those of others was the norm.
It was then that something strange happened.
Outside the kitchen window, which overlooked the small backyard garden, a quick, almost imperceptible flash through the air. Like lightning without thunder, so fleeting that Joey thought he had imagined it.
He looked at his parents, but they continued their low-voiced discussion, oblivious to anything.
Joey frowned, his analytical mind immediately trying to process the information. Had it been a reflection? A bird flying by too quickly?
He trusted facts over emotions to make decisions, and there was no immediate factual explanation.
He slowly got up and went to the window, peeking out. The garden was as it always was: his mother's rose bushes, the lawn needing cutting, the old wooden swing no one had used in years. Nothing out of the ordinary.
This adherence to the familiar was a small comfort, as security was a priority in his life.
He returned to the table, the strange sensation lingering. Could it have been fatigue? The side effects of his medication?
He tended to worry more than other people, and unexplained things often settled in his mind.
Later, on his way to his appointment with Dr. Helena, while waiting for the bus at the stop, Joey caught a glimpse of a hooded figure across the street.
It wouldn't have been noteworthy, if not for the way the person seemed... out of place.
The clothes were strange, with a cut and fabrics he had never seen before, and the way the person looked around, with a mixture of curiosity and utter disorientation, caught his attention.
Joey, who often felt like an outsider looking in himself, found the figure oddly compelling.
The bus arrived, and Joey got on, but the image of that person lingered in his mind.
There was something about them, an aura of confusion that, in a way, mirrored his own internal state and the feeling that something was profoundly missing in his life.
He couldn't shake the feeling that this was different, more significant than a mere fleeting observation.
________________________________________
If you want more chapters, please consider supporting my page on Patreon. with 40 advanced chapters available on Patreon
patreon.com/JoeyLean