The second I finished eating, I placed my plate in the sink.
I needed to get out for a bit. I couldn't look my sister or my mother in the eyes.
Even now, thinking back on what happened, the embarrassment is overwhelming.
But just as I reached for the door, a voice called out behind me—sweet, gentle… and somehow terrifying.
"And where do you think you're going, young man?"
Before I could react, strong arms wrapped around me like a vice. A second later, I was pulled straight into the soft but suffocating prison that was my mother's chest.
I couldn't breathe.
Seriously—I couldn't breathe.
Her hug tightened like the grip of a constrictor, squeezing every last bit of air out of my lungs. My face was pressed into softness that would've made most guys smile—but this wasn't one of those moments. This was survival.
"I love you so, so much, sweetheart," she said, voice glowing with warm mom-energy.
I panicked.
Between the pressure and the sheer awkwardness, I barely managed to squeak out, "I… love you too, Mom…"
It came out muffled and desperate.
Finally, she let me go, completely unaware that she'd just nearly murdered me with affection. I stumbled back, gasping like a drowning man breaking the surface.
Face flushed red, I avoided eye contact and mumbled a goodbye, making my escape before she decided to go for round two.
Once outside, I blended into the crowd and let the city swallow me. My thoughts drifted with every step.
How should I spend the first day of summer vacation?
The world blurred around me. I let it. My mind was already racing.
I was never the popular guy in school. That title belonged to my sister—queen of every hallway and the heart of every guy.
Me? I had a few friends.
Okay. One friend.
Her name's Ilizzibuth, but I just call her Lizz. We've been friends since we were little.
I wondered if she was free today. Maybe we could hang out?
Or maybe I'd swing by the hobby shop and check out the new Warhammer Fantasy set that just dropped.
They called it the "Three Great Lords" set: a Skaven warlord, an Orc chieftain, and a vampire noblewoman.
Lizz would probably go crazy over the vampire—The Red Lady, I think they called her.
I could get it for her. She'd love that. And I could grab the Skaven for myself, a little reward for being such a thoughtful friend.
As I imagined our next tabletop battle—my cunning ratmen versus her elegant bloodsuckers—I smiled to myself, mentally patting my own back.
That's when I heard it.
SCREEEEECH!
The high-pitched scream of tires locking up on pavement.
I snapped out of my thoughts—and looked up.
A massive truck was barreling down the street. The driver was desperately yanking the wheel, but it was too late.
The world slowed.
My legs tensed, instinct screaming at me to move—
But I was too slow.
The headlights grew larger, the roar of the engine louder, drowning everything out.
This is it, I thought. I'm really going to die.
But then—
WHAM.
Something—someone—slammed into me from the side with bone-jarring force, knocking me clean off my feet.
I hit the pavement hard. My head cracked against the sidewalk.
Pain exploded through my skull, and everything went black.