An Average Day at Laminax

Chapter 15

Awaking in the morning, I got up and walked outside. The sun was rising, and it was just me. It was peaceful out here. Nothing like Houston, or Cambridge City. I walked a bit further and looked upwards. Above me was a plane, leaving behind a white trail. Where was it heading? Where did it take off from? While I was still a human and working at the Houston branch, I often daydreamed about places where I wanted to travel. I looked online about nearby and faraway places I wanted to visit in my lifetime. Canada, Mexico, the Caribbean, Europe, Africa, Asia, Oceania, South America... all those places. On my top five list of countries, I wanted to visit, they were Italy, Greece, Japan, Thailand and a triple tie between Australia, Indonesia, and Scotland. But now, I know I can't visit any of them.

I watched the plane slowly get tinier and tinier as it flew off into the distance, until I was interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching towards me. I turned around to see Emilio walking towards me. "You're up early." I said. "As are you, Oliver." He replied, walking towards the rusty Datsun. "Where are you going?" I asked. "Breakfast. You want me to get the same brand of cat food I got you before?" He said, unlocking the car. "I suppose..." I said. He nodded and entered the car, starting the engine and then driving off into the distance. It was just me and the New Mexican desert. I walked back inside the storage trailer and turned on the TV. I flicked onto the news channel, and waited to see if there was a report about me. And sure enough, after the weather report, there was a picture of me there. It was from my Laminax identification card, with a dead serious look on my face. At first, I didn't care. They talked about me, my job, and where I was last seen, in Denver, of course. They then showed what looked to be a close-up, low-resolution security footage photo of me outside Denver Airport, walking with the group. I watched on in silence, not caring. That was until they showed footage of my dad and brother outside of my childhood house. My dad was holding back tears as he spoke to a reporter outside of his house in Indiana. He was average height and had short, shaved hair and stubble, and was wearing sunglasses. He was also wearing a T-shirt with the Indiana Pacers logo on it and dark jeans. Standing next to him was my brother, who was standing next to him, visibly taller. He had short brown swept hair, light blue eyes and was wearing a jean jacket with baggy jeans. Underneath his jean jacket was a shirt of what looked to be Tupac. Hanging from his neck was a golden necklace, with a cross dangling from the bottom of it. Just visible from under his sleeve on his arm was a tattoo.

The reporter said to my dad "Arthur, if you could say one thing to your son right now, what would it be?" He was silent for a moment, then cleared his throat and said "Oliver, I know I haven't spent much time with you, with me traveling across the Midwest to make ends meet, and paying strangers to look after you, I'm sure you were so alone. No mother, a busy father... raised by strangers rather than me. I'm so sorry, son. I love you." He then began to cry, with my brother, James, awkwardly patting his shoulder in support. After that, James spoke. "What would I say to him? Umm, well I guess... Oliver, I never really paid attention to you. I was more interested in sport, you were interested in studies... after high school, we just... didn't speak to each other much. I took you for granted. You prevented me from making very stupid decisions, ever since we were toddlers. To be truthful, I guess I... missed you. Days ago, I spoke about visiting him in Houston... if only I visited earlier. I could've seen him one more time before he went missing..." The report switched back to another photo of me, and I stared at the screen with sadness. I turned it off and covered my face with my paws. Not my hands, my paws. My paws, that I would be stuck with forever. There was no going back. In the past, many scientists had tried and failed to make a cure to turn people back, to no avail.

For the next twenty minutes, I reflected on my past. My childhood, my teenage years, and my twenties. In childhood, I had a natural curiosity and high grades, in my teenage years I was focused on studying. I had little friends at the school I went to, but that didn't seem to bother me, and I had great grades. In my twenties, I went to MIT to study and for the past three years, I was dedicating myself to Laminax. I barely took breaks or sick days, and I didn't spend my money on wants rather than needs. In short, I had pretty much wasted half my life, and now, I was going to die. I didn't know it was possible to have a mid-life crisis at 25, but here I was.