I dragged myself out of bed, slipped on my house slippers, and wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth with the sleeve of my pajama set.
I wiped the sleep from my eyes and sluggishly walked toward my bathroom. It was a modestly small apartment. A simple one bedroom with one bath.
As I walked into the bathroom and flicked the light switch. I let out a sigh as realized the room was still pitch black. As I walked out to replace the light bulb my eyes landed on the alarm clock on my bed side.
It was 3:00 am in the morning. I couldn't help but ponder why I woke up so early. Then I remembered the day before. I'd been out celebrating with some friends.
While Im not on "abusive step father level" I was a heavy drinker despite only being 20 years old. After my father passed away from a stroke, I naturally was miserable and even though my drinking habit had nothing to do with my fathers death it made a nice excuse.
Knowing my father he'd prolly approve, he always preached about making use of "shitty situations". I walked down the dark hallway as my house slippers caused the old wooden floors to creek.
I approached a small closet and pulled out a stepping stool, though I was surprised by my own action as I've always been a above average height male. I thought to myself when did the ceiling get so high.
I then looked at my hand still holding onto the stool as I realized my grip was weaker and my hands were significantly smaller. I brushed it off as my still recovering hangover.
I snatched a light bulb out the box at the bottom of the closet. I frowned realizing that was the last one and set a small reminder in the back of my head to buy some new ones on my next arand.
I eventually entired the room stepped on the stool and tried my best to screw the light bulb while it was still pitch black. when the light turned on I caught a glimpse of black in the mirror beside me. I gasped in disbelief as saw the face that looked back at me.
I looked around frantically and then realized this was not my bathroom. While the plane white sheets and cover of my bed was mine and the layout of the apartment was similar to mines this was definitely not my bathroom.
For one the toothbrush in the small white cup was blue, for two the brand of toothpaste was in an entirely different language. Though I could still somehow comprehend said language.
And for three the bathroom was filthy. My actual apartment was always clean and sanitary and I often used air fresheners that left a sent of lavender in the air.
I then looked backed at the mirror as I starred back at a 10 year old boy from my guess and long blacked hair that rested on my shoulders and dull brown eyes.
My Heart began to beat at a faster pace and hands began to shake in fear as a thousand explanations ran through my mind.
"What hell is going on"