The Fall

by

T. Allan Bishop

Started: 18 Jun 95

Last Updated: 14 May 97

My head still hurt from the fall. Me and Billy McGovern were playing Superman, and I fell off the garage before I was ready to jump. I know it was stupid, but it was fun. At least until I slipped and fell. Mom was pretty upset. She saw me fall and ran outside to help me. It was a good thing she did, because I was in a lot of pain. There was also a lot of blood, probably because my head hit the driveway.

Daddy had the car at work, so she had to take me inside and call Doc Jordan. She managed to stop the bleeding with the wet towels. At least I think it stopped. I was feeling pretty dizzy by then. It only took Doc Jordan about ten minutes to get here, because we lived in a small town.

I was lying in my bed when he got here. He looked at me for quite a while, then went and talked to momma. I don’t know what they talked about, but it really upset her. She began crying. I tried to get up and see what was wrong, but I hurt too much.

That was the last thing I remembered until now. I was apparently just waking up, only my eyes were having trouble focusing. My mind was having a little trouble, too. I was definitely in my room, but it was completely different. For starters, it wasn’t blue anymore. It was pink. And all my toys were replaced with girls’ toys. There were dolls and doll houses, play kitchens, and all kind of other girl stuff.

I know I shouldn’t have been playing such dangerous games, but mom had gone too far this time. I wasn’t about to start playing with girl toys just because of one little fall. What would my friends think? I decided to tell momma that her little joke was over. I couldn’t think of the right way to say it, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I was going to let her know that I was a boy and I needed to play with boy’s toys.

I walked out into the hallway, but it was also completely different. What was happening here? I was starting to get scared. How could they have changed everything so fast? One room maybe, but not the entire house. I must still be asleep. That was the only good reason I could think of. This was one of those bad dreams like dad has had since he got back from Vietnam a few years ago.

The bad dream continued. Every single room was completely different. We had new furniture, new carpet, even new paint on the walls. At least now I knew it was a dream, so it wasn’t so scary. No one was home, so I was able to look around quite a bit.

In my dream, I saw my parent’s room, which was now decorated in brown. My room seemed to belong to a girl. She must have been my sister. Mom’s sewing room must have been my room now, because it was filled with toys for a boy.

Then, they came home. Not my family like I expected, but a completely different family. Four people I’d never seen before were walking into my house. I turned to run, forgetting that it was just a dream, but tripped over my own feet and fell.

The pain was incredible. There was no way I could feel pain like that and still be asleep. I looked around again. The same decorations were there. Not the ones I remembered, but the new, unknown ones.

The people looked where I was lying and paid absolutely no attention to me. It was as if I belonged there, so they weren’t surprised to see me. Had I been out for more than a few days and been adopted by or given to this family? Maybe this was what amnesia was really like. Instead of not remembering anything, you just remember it wrong. That would explain everything. Everything, that is, except why I was sleeping in a girl’s room.

These people must be my parents. And the two smaller ones must be my brother and sister. If, of course, I have a brother and sister. I’m kind of confused right now, so I’m not sure. And even if I was sure, how could I be? Especially if it was amnesia. They didn’t seem to care, though. They moved about and talked, all the while ignoring me. If this was my family, they weren’t very loving. And why did they leave me here, in the house, all alone?

I finally got tired of being ignored, so I spoke up. “Are you my parents?”

But I got no response.

“Is this my home?”

But I got no response.

“Please help me!”

But I got no response. I even screamed, but they just ignored me. I was starting to get really afraid now. Everything I did went completely unnoticed. Was this some kind of cruel punishment for something I did wrong, or was this a sick method of child abuse? Either way, it scared me, and I stood there and cried while no one noticed me.

Then, the strangest thing happened. The little boy walked right through me. Not under me, not around me, but through me. And even stranger, I didn’t feel a thing, and well, he didn’t notice it either. What was wrong here? I went to sit on the couch, but sank right through it to the floor.

Frantic, now, I looked around for an explanation, but none could be found. That is, until I saw the newspaper. It couldn’t be right. It was supposed to be 1975, but the paper said it was 1995. How could it be twenty years later and I still be the same size? How could I move through objects?

Unless.

Unless I died from the fall. But that’d mean I was a ghost. What was I going to do with my life as a ghost? I mean what was I going to do with my death? I’m not sure what I mean any more. I only know that I’m all alone.