Wrapped in silence you stood in front of Michael's door.

Nothing made sense anymore. Everything seemed to fall apart.

What even was happening?

You were trapped in your own home. There was no way out.

Perhaps you were just overreacting, but your aunt nor her son seemed to be in reach, the man you had grown up with had Alzheimer's and things inside the house started to change without any possible explanation.

Carefully, you opened the door a crack wide to throw a glance inside the room.

Everything was silent. Just a few breaths every now and then filled the dark.

"Michael?", you asked and looked at the man who lay in bed.

He was as white as a sheet. From afar he looked more dead than alive. Only the fact that he was breathing made clear that he was still amongst the living.

"Michael...", only hesitantly did you dare to set foot into the dark room.

But as soon as you closed the door behind you, a cold shiver crawled down your spine. It was like this deep rooted gut feeling, some kind of dark omen that foretold that something definitely wasn't right.

With bated breath you looked around the room.

But nothing was changed. Everything was the exact same way as you had left it.

The curtains were pulled close, only small strands of moonlight managed to make their way into the room. No one except Michael and you was present. And the blanket was still tugged under his arms in a way to keep cold air from getting to him.

Small snorts mixed into his breaths. His lips were slightly parted. A thin strand of saliva was visible in the right corner of his mouth.

With your eyebrows drawn together you approached, grabbed a paper towel off the counter and bend down to wipe it. But as you were close to his face you stopped a moment.

The saliva seemed to have a strange colour. It was barely visible but from the angle you looked down on it you were able to see a slight bluish-violet shimmer. Almost like oil on a waters surface.

It grossed you out a bit but your intrusive thoughts made you take a careful sniff. You frowned. It smelled like the inside of a hospital, sterile and somewhat too clean to be of natural cause.

But at the same time you weren't sure if it was actually there since there was no real sign.

Just this gut feeling. Yet again, your mother had always told you to trust gut feelings. Most of the time they existed for a reason.

Unsure what to do with that gut feeling though, you threw away the paper towel and bend down to gently shake Michael.

Torn from his sleep, he sucked in a sharp breath and opened his eyes a crack.

A tired smile appeared on his lips.

"Charlie.", he whispered.

Tiredly you sighed.

"Hello Michael.", you smiled and played along so as not to upset him unnecessarily. "I just wanted to check on you."

He smiled.

"Don't worry about me. How are you? Herman hasn't been very nice lately."

You frowned. A question burned on the tip of your tongue. But you didn't ask it.

Instead, you played along. It was better that way. And easier for both of you.

"Michael, I'm looking for the keys.", you said and sat down on the edge of the bed. "You have the spare keys in your room, don't you?"

He nodded.

"Oh, but yes... all of them.", he paused briefly to frown. "All but one..."

Surprised, you looked at him.

"Which one is missing?"

For a moment he seemed to think hard. Finally he shook his head.

"I don't remember. I'm sorry, Charlie."

A sigh left your lips.

"It's all right.", you patted his hand. "Can I get the other keys from your room?"

"Sure. But they're in my safe."

"Do you remember the code?"

He laughed.

"Of course. Two, two seven, four, I'm sure of it."

Your eyes wandered over his face.

He seemed happy, a satisfied smile on his face. And yet he was visibly tired. His face was sunken and he could hardly keep his eyes open.

"Go back to sleep, Michael.", you said, covering him up again so he wouldn't start to freeze. "I'll be right back with the keys."

Nodding contentedly, he closed his eyes without arguing and pulled the blanket up to his chin like a little child.

It broke your heart to see how changed he was. His mind wouldn't even let him believe things but took him straight back to the past. He had forgotten everything bad and now thought it was as perfect as you had believed as a child.

And you sat in the present, knowing that nothing was as it seemed. Michael didn't even know your parents were dead. Instead, he treated you like them. As if he could look into your face and see them both.

You wondered if you were really so much like them both. Normally, children always looked more like a parent. Felix, for example, was unmistakably his mother's son. Maybe that was why it had always been so difficult to guess who his father could have been.

In the past, when Lukas had come over more often, you had believed he was Felix's father. But the dislike between Aunt May and Lukas seemed a strong argument against it.

Taking a deep breath, you stopped at the door and glanced back over your shoulder. Michael had already fallen asleep again.

Quietly you slipped out of the room and closed the door behind you.

But something felt wrong. It would have been better to lock the room. Yet again that seemed a little too extreme.

"Paranoid.", you mumbled and ran down the corridor to Michael's room. "You become paranoid."

As you looked between two pillars of the banister you suddenly noticed a strange movement near the office.

Startled, you stopped as if rooted to the spot. But on second glance there was nothing. The feeling of goose bumps creeping down your spine remained, however.

"Paranoid indeed.", you hissed.