FicWad

"Would you like some more pancakes, Gerard?" my mom asked me, looking at my nearly empty plate. It was a Sunday morning, the day that my dad makes pancakes for breakfast. It's like an unwritten rule of some sort.
"Um, no," I answered slowly. I didn't know what I wanted.
I watched my thirteen year old brother pour strawberry syrup on his pancakes. The vivid red color reminded me of blood. I closed my eyes, putting my cold hand to my forehead.
The girl's pace quickened as she felt she was being followed by a strange force. She suddenly stopped, throwing herself against a brick wall. She started screaming and begging for her own life. A dark red car sped by, splashing water against the sidewalk. The girl's screams faded as the water stirred.

"Gerard, are you okay?" Mikey asked. I jumped up, accidentally slamming my hand on the table. I looked around, as if I forgot where I was for a moment. What kind of a daydream was that?
My parents were looking at each other with worry. I started to get a headache watching Mikey pour more strawberry syrup. "That's enough, Mikey," my dad said, putting the syrup far from his reach.
"So, Gerard, what do you want to do to celebrate your birthday?" my mom asked as she poured orange juice.
"I don't care," I mumbled.
"I know what I would want to do," Mikey started.
"You go do that, then." I snapped. When my parents weren't looking Mikey pretended to throw his fork at me. I didn't flinch.
"Mikey, if you throw that fork you will be grounded until your seventeen," my mom warned as she sat down. I couldn't help but smile a little.
"Gerard, where do you want to go for dinner?" my dad asked. I sighed.
"Uh, I don't know, Mikey you pick." I said dismissively.
"/Wright's [sp?] Chicken Farm/!" he yelled excitedly.
"Indoor voice," my mom warned again.
"Gerard? Is that alright with you?" my dad asked.
"Sure, yeah." I agreed without looking up. My headache started to come back. The table looked like it was meting away, forming into water. A dimmed scream was piercing my ears, causing me to look up.
The vivid colors of my kitchen instantly snapped back. My hair thrown in my face, but even through the pieces I could see that everyone was staring at me.
"What?" I snapped, pushing my hair out of my eyes.
"You were mumbling something," Mikey told me.
"Gerard, are you sure that your ok?" my dad asked worriedly.
"I don't know," I said, standing up. I quickly walked upstairs and into my room.
I threw myself on top of my bed, digging my face into my pillow.
Why is this happening to me?

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ok i dont own Wright's Chicken Farm, i dont know if it is very popular, but i go there alot. They have good food, chicken especially.[sp?]