Chapter 18: A Change In Routine

The next morning, as Melissa sat down at the table, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease. It had been nagging at her ever since yesterday, and no matter how hard she tried to push it aside, her worry only deepened. Just as she had feared, her mother had now made it a habit of waking up so early to cook for them and tidy up the house, which was starting to feel like a ticking clock.

She glanced over at Victor, who had just entered the kitchen, his eyes as tired as the morning light, which was still dim. He set his bag down with a heavy sigh and poured himself a cup of coffee. He looked at Melissa and then at their mother, who was busy packing a lunchbox for him to take to the office.

“Mom, seriously, you don’t need to do this every morning,” Victor said, his voice more strained than usual as he watched his mother move around the kitchen. “I can pack my own lunch. You’re waking up at 3 AM just to make sure I take home-cooked meals to work, and that’s not okay.”

Mrs Wright stopped mid-step, clearly surprised by her son’s words. “It’s no trouble, Victor. You’ve just started commuting from home to work, and I know it is exhausting for you because of the distance to the office. The least I can do to relieve your stress as your mother is to make sure you are properly fed. You don’t have to worry about me; I’m fine,” she replied.

But Victor shook his head, his brows furrowing with concern. “You’re not fine, Mom. I’ve been noticing it. You’re exhausted. You barely get any sleep, waking up this early to cook for me before heading to your store, while also managing to run the house smoothly throughout the day. And I can’t stand seeing you push yourself like this.”

Melissa joined in, her voice softer but no less urgent. “We’re both worried about you. You’re not as young as you used to be, and not getting enough sleep at night to take care of us isn’t good for your health.”

Mrs. Wright’s face softened, but there was a quiet resistance in her eyes. “I’m just doing what I’ve always done. I’ve taken care of both of you since you were born, and despite how grown you think you are, I’d still do it. You know I’m happy to take care of my children. It’s nothing new,” Mrs Wright insisted.

Victor stood up, moving over to the counter to stand beside her. “But it is new, Mom. Your body has gotten used to getting enough rest since you stopped this routine when Lydia and I got into high school. Now that you're trying to pick up this habit again, I’m worried you’ll eventually burn yourself out. Dad just got back home, and I decided to move back in to be able to take care of both of you. I would be very sad if your health got affected because of me,” Victor said.

Melissa nodded in agreement. “We appreciate everything you do for us, but it’s too much. You’re wearing yourself thin, and we can't just stand by and let it happen.”

There was a long silence as Mrs Wright set the lunchbox down on the counter, her hands trembling slightly. She wasn’t used to being the one receiving concern instead of offering it. She wanted to argue, to insist that she was fine, but deep down, she knew they were right.

“I didn’t realize how much I was pushing myself,” she admitted quietly. “I just wanted to make sure you were settled in with your new routine, and I didn't know I was making you both worried. I just wanted to make things easier for you,” Mrs. Wright said.

Victor’s expression softened, and he gently placed his hand over hers. “We know, Mom. But we don’t need you to sacrifice your health for us. You’ve done enough. We can handle things on our own now.”

Melissa gave a small, encouraging smile. “We’re all grown up, Mom. We can take care of ourselves. You’ve earned a break.”

Mrs. Wright looked at her children, her heart swelling with love. The idea of slowing down felt almost foreign to her—she had spent so many years taking care of them that it had become second nature. Even though Victor had lived on his own, now that he was under her roof, he was still her little boy who needed to be well-fed. But seeing the genuine concern on their faces made her realize that perhaps it was time to take a step back.

“I’ll try,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll try to take it easier. But you know it’s hard for me.”

“We know, and we’re not asking you to stop everything overnight,” Victor reassured her. “We just want you to stop running yourself ragged. Melissa and I can take care of these things ourselves.”

Later that evening, after a long day of work, the Wrights sat down together for dinner. This time, Mrs. Wright wasn’t in the kitchen scrambling to prepare everything at the last minute. Instead, they all worked together, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they enjoyed a meal without her rushing to and from the stove. Mr. Wright, who had been asleep during the whole drama from that morning, was puzzled by this new arrangement.

"Did something happen that I'm unaware of?" he asked.

Melissa replied, "Does it feel like something changed?" He responded that something definitely felt different about the atmosphere. As Melissa looked at her mom and Victor, the three of them laughed at her dad, who was left even more confused.

As the evening wore on, Melissa felt a sense of relief wash over her. She had been worried about her mother’s health, but now, with both her and Victor on the same page, she felt like they could start to make things better—together.

Later that night, after a comforting family dinner, Melissa found herself drifting off to sleep. However, as she lay in bed, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She found herself in a familiar dream that felt unsettling. She was standing in a dark, misty field, the air thick with a sense of foreboding. Her friend Lydia was standing beside her, but she looked distant, almost unreachable.

Why can’t I understand what Lydia is trying to say? Melissa struggled to hear her friend’s voice, which was just a faint whisper over her rising anxiety. Lydia pointed her hands urgently behind her as if trying to show Melissa something just out of her sight.

"What's wrong?" Melissa asked, but Lydia's face twisted with fear, her eyes wide and pleading.

As Melissa strained to see what Lydia kept pointing at, she heard footsteps getting louder and closer, each step echoing in the stillness. The ground beneath her feet felt heavy as if pulling her down. She could feel her pulse quicken as the sound of the footsteps grew deafening.

Then, she saw it—a shadowy figure emerging from the mist, its outline blurry but ominous. The figure was tall, its features concealed, and as it approached, the air seemed to grow colder. The closer it got, the darker it became, the darkness spreading like ink in water.

At that moment, Lydia’s fear reached its peak. She ran away, moving quickly and frantically, as the shadow grew bigger. Melissa felt an overwhelming sense of panic, but she couldn’t move, frozen in place. The footsteps grew louder, the figure drawing nearer, and her heart raced in her chest.

Melissa knew she was supposed to run, she kept on saying this with the voice in her head. “Run, Melissa! You have to run!”

But the ground beneath her seemed to shift, and she couldn’t make a step. The shadow loomed over her, its presence suffocating. The dream was slipping away, her connection to Lydia fading, and the sense of terror clawed at her from every angle.

The darkness was all-encompassing now, and Melissa woke up, her breath shallow and her body drenched in cold sweat. She looked around her room, her heart still racing, trying to shake off the lingering fear from the dream.

Lydia had been trying to warn her about something, but what? And what did the shadow mean? The questions buzzed in her mind, but before she could dwell on them further, she felt the weight of exhaustion take over. Maybe the answers would come with time. For now, all she could do was try to sleep again, hoping for peace in the night.

But as the darkness crept in once more, the unease remained, leaving her restless, unsure of what the future might hold.