The next morning Toby woke in his bed. He felt different. He wasn’t tired at all, and when he consciously woke up, it felt like he had been lying there awake for hours. He had no thoughts flowing through his mind. He sat up slowly and stumbled over to the wall, but when he stood he automatically felt dizzy. He stumbled to the doorway and walked down the stairs. His parents were sitting at the table, his father was tuned in to the small TV that sat on the counter top, and his mother was reading the newspaper. She quickly looked over when she felt Toby’s presence looming behind her.

“Well good morning sleepy head, you’ve been sleeping forever,” she greeted him with a hesitant smile. Toby slowly looked over at the clock and noticed that it was 12:30 p.m.

“I made you breakfast but it got cold, I was going to wake you but I felt you needed sleep,” her expression fell from happy to worried as her son resisted responding to her.

“Are you all right?”

Toby stumbled over and sat by his father. He felt as if he was on idle and had no control over his actions. He was seeing everything he did, but I didn’t register in his brain properly. He reached out to his father’s arm, but his hand ended up getting slapped. His father turned to him abruptly and pushed his chair over whit his foot.

“Don’t touch me, boy!” he yelled.

His mother stood up, “Alright know that off! That is the last thing we need!”

The days went by, and things continued on as they were. Connie spent...