My Borrowed Son

Concerning Claims

Chapter Eighteen | Concerning Claims

Parker woke the next morning from a startling dream. He was running from something that he couldn't see, nor did he want to see. He was sprinting for his life. Lungs were burning. Tears streaking down his cheeks. Everything felt big and menacing.

Clouds darkened the sky within seconds. Rain came pouring down from the darkness high above his head. There was someone's voice calling out to him. It sounded so familiar, and yet not at the same time. Waves and water threatened to choke him, filling his mouth and nose as he gasped for air.

When Parker opened his eyes, he sat bolt upright drenched in sweat and chest heaving as he looked wildly around the room.

It had been a while since he had that dream.

It was a reoccurring nightmare where the details felt too real, too close, just to be a dream.

But that's what they were.

Dreams.

Heaving breath after breath, Parker leaned back and let his heart pound and race until it finally quieted. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and stared at the space sticker above his head while his mind processed the dream.

The digital alarm clock, right on cue, began buzzing against the far wall. It was the alarm humming away without a care in the world. The boxy numbers on the green lit screen illuminated the room in a Matrix like glow, making the waking world fell like it was still part of the dream world.

Parker gave himself ten more seconds before hoisting himself up out of bed. He pressed the hand-sized button on the side of the watch to turn it off before falling into routine. Comb through the hair. Face washed. Teeth brushed. Clothes on.

The familiar padding of his mom's footsteps came into the room right on cue followed by the signature tap tap tap on the edge of the wall.

"Parker?" His mom's melodic voice was followed by the sound of the creaking hinges as the wall pulled away.

"I'm up," Parker called. The wall stopped moving but remained cracked ever so slightly. Parker took the opportunity to head into his classroom and get everything turned on.

Parker's mom tapped the top of the opening for a moment before asking, "Do you want anything specific for breakfast? I know you've got a lot of presentations today. Just some jelly toast?"

Parker smiled. His mom knew him so well.

"Yes, please," he called. "But in a little bit. I want to go over my notes again. I'll eat during third period. Thanks mom!"

For whatever reason, Parker didn't like eating first thing in the morning. In fact, he tended to do better throughout the day if he ate scarcely. It seemed to contradict the behavior of many of his fellow students and friends. Many of them were ravenous in the mornings recently, but not Parker. There were also a few other interesting things that were developing, but Parker wasn't going to think about it right now.

First things first – notes.

It wasn't until Parker leaned forward and began flicking on all of his devices that he noticed the drill bit he had brought with him the night before. He had scurried back to his bed so fast that he had almost forgotten that he had brought it with him and threw it on the ground by his computer gear.

The events of last night felt like his dream – real and not real. It was more like a memory than a dream, and this dream was staring him right in the face. The rusty flat head drill bit just laid there as if trying to tell some silent story Parker couldn't translate.