‘What should I make for breakfast?’

I sit up in my bed, wildly looking around. The sun is barely up and I am the only one in my bedroom. What’s going on?

I softly pad towards the door and I twist the knob. It creaks open. The hallway is empty and gradually filling with morning light. Tilly’s door is closed, and so is Michael’s. So who said that? I go back into my room and pick up the tattered book on my nightstand, The Hunger Games. This was probably my sixth time reading it.

Gently working out the adorable snowman bookmark that Tilly made for me, I focus my eyes on the words. But I can’t stop thinking about that weird sentence. It wasn’t mine, although I don’t think anyone said it aloud. I tiptoe out of bed again and head towards Michael’s room. I don’t want to wake up Tilly.

Slowly opening my brothers door, I blink my eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness that is Michael’s room. After a couple seconds, I can see him snoring on his bed. Weird patterns of light come into the room through the door find it’s way to his drum set. Humph. My brother is always useless.

I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check if Tilly’s awake. I ease Michael’s bedroom door closed and walk over to Tilly’s room. Pressing my ear on the door, I can hear the pages of a book ruffling and Tilly quietly humming.

Yes! She is awake! I knock softly on her door and then push it open. Her wide brown eyes are still focused on the book until she finishes the page, and then she sets it to the side.

“Lyah, what are you doing up?” She whispers, beckoning me over with her tiny hand. My sister is surprisingly small for her age, but she makes up for it with her smarts.

I hesitate. “I… heard something.”

Tilly’s eyes widen in interest. “Like what?” She props herself up on her elbows and stares at me intently, her eyes glistening with interest.

I purse my lips. “Did you hear anyone say something, like maybe Mom?”

Tilly furrows her brow and scrunches her nose. “No…”

Uh oh, I think, what’s going on? “Well, I heard…” what’s the harm in telling Tilly? It’s not like she’s going to think I’m crazy or anything. Right? “I heard someone that sounded suspiciously like Mom say ‘What should I make for breakfast?’”

My little sister is silent for a moment, leaving my heart thumping as she comes to a conclusion. “Well, your bedroom is closest to the stairs. Maybe Mom was just talking to herself and you overheard!” She seems happy with her assumption, so I play along.

“Yes! That’s it! Thanks, Till! I can always count on you!” I say through my teeth, feeling terrible for lying to my sister. She’s so sweet and perfect and smart, and she shouldn’t be lied to. So I ruffle her hair, thrust her book - Harry Potter - into her hands, and leave the room. I don’t stop smiling until I get into my room.

Then I start to breathe heavily. Tilly didn’t hear anything, and Michael obviously didn’t hear anything. Am I going crazy? I decide to go back to sleep, hoping that it’s a dream and I’m going delusional. After all, it’s only six.

***

I wake up again. Now it’s almost eight, and I can smell eggs frying on the stove and bacon sizzling. I slide into my slippers and trod down the stairs, almost tasting the bacon on my way down.

But as soon as I step foot into the kitchen, I start to hear something again.

‘Where is that boy? Michael should have been down ages ago…’ Great. The mysterious voice once again. I sigh and my eyes travel to Mom’s face. It looks puzzled and disgruntled, perfectly matching the words that I heard… she starts making her way up the stairs.

“Hey, Mom! Good morning!” I say, trying to stop her. “Uhh, where are you going?”

Mom bites her lip and tilts her head. “To get your brother. Feel free to help yourself to some breakfast.” Then she jogs up the rest of the stairs and I start to feel panic arising in my mind.

“Okay,” I call, but my voice falters. I’m hearing thoughts, which I don’t think is normal, in any way.