It was just another morning, like any other. Myka laid in the bed until she felt the warm gentle kiss of sunrays on her cheek.

Happy to finally be awake, after what seemed like an endless sleep. She stretched and yawned her way to an upright position in her bed. Then she waited for her little borther, Mitchie, to come running down the hall into her room as he did every morning like clockwork.

Ten minutes passed, Myka thought he may have overslept. Ten minutes soon became 30 and Myka grew tired of waiting and decided to head down for breakfast alone. She opened her bedroom door and made her way to the stairwell leading into the kitchen.

It wasn’t until she had reached the stairs that Myka realized something was different. Unlike mornings before it, the smell of bacon and eggs didn’t resonate through the house. She didn’t hear the sounds of Mother rustling in the kitchen nor of Papa whistling while shaving.

Myka stood at the top of the stairs wondering if it was really a dream.