He’s having that dream again, the same one he has every night. The birds chirping, the wind rustling; Mike can almost smell the crisp pine in the air as he dreams, that same damn dream again. He’s watching Garret play with his toy plane. That moment is coming soon. He knows this dream like the back of his hand.

Mike’s mom spills the soda. She asks him to watch his little brother for her. He gets distracted. And there it is…that ugly, old, yellow car with Garret in the back. He swears he can see a faint silhouette of a face in the back — clearer than normal! It’s…It’s…!

“MIKE!”

A loud voice jolts Mike awake, bringing him tumbling back to reality. He almost falls out of his bed, the wires of his headphones getting tangled around his neck for a moment before he struggles to get them off.

He’s in his room. Of course he is. Mike sighs; the house is more chaotic than usual. “What?!” He calls out, grumbling as he gets to his feet. It’s seven AM. He can hear his roommate and little sister arguing. Mike isn’t sure who called his name, but it must’ve been one of them.

“What??” He calls out again, and he gets no response for a moment until his roommate’s exasperated voice calls out from the kitchen. He couldn’t quite catch everything they said, something about…Abby, breakfast, and not eating.

Goddamnit. She’s not eating again.

Getting his sister to eat could be a hassle. When she was stubborn like this, Abby would only listen to Mike. He grumbled, getting out of bed and dragging himself into the kitchen. He didn’t get much out of his dream. Again. But tomorrow is another day. He could always try again.