Just Another Day

…She literally just said that. I wasn’t too sure what to make of this. I looked at my sister, dumbstruck and my left eyebrow raised curiously.

I stopped mid-pour with the box of cereal. My toast had just popped out of the toaster. I set the cereal box down on the table and stood back up. I stared at her wildly as she sat in her seat at the table, tapping away at her phone as if she hadn’t said anything. I looked over at her phone and saw her scrolling through Instagram; there was a post of her friend, Kelsey, from school, after she’d taken a selfie while standing in some clean yet dimly lit bathroom. Probably a filter, then, I thought to myself. My sister double-tapped the picture, giving it a like. Then there was a video on a loop of a man slinging a whip while singing some mainstream song, though I couldn’t remember what song that was.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked her. But she just continued to stare at her phone, scrolling absently as if she didn’t hear me.

Now I was getting a little irritated with her. “Hello?” I asked, the fluster obvious in my voice, “Did you hear what I just said?” No response. I sighed then scoffed at her and turned to look through the window. A red pickup truck with its windows rolled down was driving down the street and I saw it roll over a pothole in the asphalt; I heard the truck driver yell out something obscene as the vehicle lurched over the open hole in the ground. “I wonder when someone is finally going to do something about that,” I said absently, “seems like someone is driving over that constantly and getting pissed off – you would think people would at least learn to try and avoid it by now.” I turned back to my sister, who still almost seemed to be making a conscious effort to ignore my very existence.

“Forget you, then,” I mumbled. It was at this time I realized I had left my phone upstairs. I gave one final glare at my sister, turned away from the window, and began to walk back to the stairs. But before I could make it to the stairs landing, my sister said in a disinterested mumble, “Watch out for the china hutch,” while still gazing at her phone, doing her endless scrolling.

I kept my pace while turning my head to look back at her, “What about it –” but I couldn’t finish my sentence as my pinkie toe crunched aggressively against the front left leg of the china hutch near the edge of the kitchen. “OH… Crap…!”  I exclaimed through clenched teeth, “Oh, oh man that stings! Shoot!” I hopped on one leg and cradled my wounded foot up close to my waist. I took a few deep breaths, swallowing the pain, and allowed it to course through my body.

Slowly it faded away and I gently lowered my foot back down to the floor. “Well, thanks for trying to warn me,” I said bitterly. My sister lazily shrugged; the quick up-down motion of her shoulders was barely even noticeable. I was starting to think something was wrong with her; this level of laziness and disinterest was unlike her. It was as if she had gotten so monotonously bored with her day that her entire persona had become gray. But that didn’t make much sense, considering it was still morning – we had plenty of daylight left, and she was always good at finding something to do.

“Hey, are…” I started to say but stopped when I heard a second car roll over the pothole outside. There was no angry cursing that I could hear, but I imagined that the driver of the car was still probably disgruntled after the loud rattling of the vehicle battering over that hole in the asphalt. “Dang,” I breathed, “I’m kinda glad I don’t have to worry about that pothole. I hope they fix it by the time I can drive!” I said with some enthusiasm in my voice. She only gave that halfhearted shrug again at me.

I sighed at her. I wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or worried with her; maybe both? I don’t know, but she was acting weird regardless.

Now, I forgot why I even got up in the first place. I hate when that happens, it’s like I was a character in The Sims and someone just canceled an action for me when I was just about to go do it. I unconsciously scratched at the side of my neck. I realized that the skin there had started to feel raw. I went over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror; sure enough, the skin on that side of my neck was a reddish pink, as if I hadn’t just scratched it that one time there, but had been scratching at it for hours, “Okay, that’s weird,” I said out loud to no one. Maybe I can get Mom to look at it later.

I left the bathroom and noticed the clock in the hallway had stopped working – the hand that counted the seconds was stuck in place, and looking at the long and short hands, it looked like it stopped not too long after I came downstairs after waking up. What, does nothing work around here anymore? The road’s broken, the clock stopped clocking, and the skin on my neck looks like it’s given up, I thought bitterly.

Now I was beginning to feel a lot like how my sister looked – or maybe this was just her attitude starting to rub off on me. I grumpily walked back to the kitchen table, deciding I might as well try and finish my breakfast. As I walked past where my sister sat, I saw on her phone an Instagram post of her friend, Kelsey, from school, after she’d taken a selfie while standing in some clean yet dimly lit bathroom. Probably a filter, then, I thought to myself. My sister double-tapped the picture, giving it a like.

I sat down in my seat, picked up the box of cereal, and began to pour it into my bowl, “Is it just me,” I mumbled, “or is today just a weird day?”

My sister responded flatly, “We’re stuck in a loop.”

Well, that was irritating, because…