the chosen daughter // colby brock

chapter eleven

I jolted awake suddenly, gasping for air. I looked around me quickly, realizing I wasn't with Colby anymore, or even in my apartment.

Where the fuck am I?

I was in a dark room, black floors and black ceiling. It was so dim, it seemed like everything went on for infinity. I stood up and stumbled around, trying to see if I could find something or someone to tell me where I was.

A spotlight appeared, lighting up a white door.

Where did that even come from?

I cautiously walked over to the door, opening it slowly.

I entered a room, the door I was coming through disappearing as I stepped inside. I was in a living room, but a living room I had never seen before.

The walls were white, but stained tan from someone that smoked. A small tv sat on a table, playing some cartoons. An archway next to the tv led into the dining room and kitchen. There was an old couch with a backpack on it and a coffee table.

"Whose house is this?" I mumbled to myself.

I could hear someone walking from the kitchen to the living room. I backed away hastily, trying to find somewhere to hide.

A light cough fell from the mouth of the person as they entered the room, placing a bowl of cereal down on the table, their back to me.

"Fuck... I guess I gotta start this homework now." A familiar voice echoed.

"Wait..." I whispered.

A young Colby sat on the ground, pulling out his books as he took a bite of cereal. A black beanie covered his brown locks, a black hoodie, grey t-shirt, and dark jeans rested against his body. He looked like he was about eighteen years old.

I gasped. "Holy shit... I'm inside his head."

Colby took another huge bite of cereal, glancing at the tv, chuckling to himself.

"Oh my God, Colby, just do your fucking homework." He grunted, not opening his mouth.

"I can hear his thoughts... this must be a memory of his." I stated.

He shoved opened a textbook, flipping open his notebook to a blank page as he began to do some equations.

He froze, glancing all around himself. "Wait... where's my IPod?"

Colby patted himself down, then ripped his backpack open again, finding his IPod. Smiling, he slid his earbuds in and clicked play.

"Holding onto patience wearing thin, I can't force these eyes to see the end..." He sang to himself inside his head.

"I knew he was into emo music!" I laughed. "Wouldn't have taken him for a Paramore fan, though."

A loud bang came from the kitchen, the backdoor swinging open and slamming shut. Colby looked over towards the noise, rolling his eyes and huffing.

I wonder who that could be?

A woman, somewhere in her 40s, walked into the living room. Her eyes darkened once her gaze landed on Colby.

"Cole, why the fuck aren't the dishes clean?" She snarled, her hands resting on her hips.

Colby kept his head down, gripping his pencil. "I have to get homework done first."

"You what?" She hissed.

"I'm not doing well in math right now, I need to make sure my homework gets done." He replied.