. : b u l l s - e y e : .

. : b u l l s - e y e : . I woke up. I was still dressed in my clothes, and for some reason, there was no light in my face. Only my digital alarm clock buzzing for me to wake up. I peered over the sheets, and saw the flashing red numbers on my clock. It was still buzzing, but I was awake. I tossed a pillow at it, and was rewarded by a crash, followed by complete silence.

"Bulls-eye."

I stood up, and remembered I was off for Christmas break. I found myself reaching down for my journal, grabbing pencils. I knew my hand was moving my pencil, and I figured it was sketching in another "photograph" from my subconscious memory. After a bit, my hand brushed across the drawing, and revealed the 5^th in a series of drawings. Random memories. Always identical people.

Here it was again, the little girl with dark curls that tumbled down to her shoulders. Beside her was an older boy, his skinny arm draped around her shoulder. He was in shorts and a t-shirt, and grinning his impish head off. To the left of the girl, another little boy of the same size as she. He clung to her hand, and was pouting.

I nearly screamed at my annoyance and frustration. I wished I could remember these people. I figured the girl could have been me, but then again, I had never seen any baby pictures. The house I lived in when I was a baby had burnt to the ground, claiming my parents and 1 brother. Maybe these boys were the 2 brothers I'd heard I had. The one that had lived had been put in an adopted family like me.

Adam and Jonathan? No, they would probably have dark hair like mine. Obviously these boys did not have dark hair, even if it was just a plain pencil drawing. I traced their features with my finger. Yes, I was certain the girl was me, but I didn't know how I drew her. I ran down the stairs of my house. My parents, Joe and Julia Turner, were sitting comfortably at the dining room table, sipping their coffee.

Joe and Julia had adopted me when I was 3, 2 weeks after I had been put in the orphanage. Joe and Julia both worked at home. Joe worked for communications for a major company. Julia worked for another major distributor. Both worked out of the house. They were insanely crazy about their work, about each other, and about me. Working off their computers, they had all 3 of their beloved things, with plenty of cash to boot.

"Morning Joe," I said, kissing my father on his forehead.

"Morning Julia," I said, and patted her on the shoulder.

"Morning, Punkin," Joe said.

"Morning, Sweetie."

I always thought it was strange, but I had never call them Mom and Dad. Julia told me once it was because when I was a baby, I refused to call them that. She said I had told them that I already had a Mom and Dad, and that they could be my parents, but I would never call them anything but Joe and Julia. So, it came to pass in our household that I never used their technical terms of reference to call them.

I stood on my tip-toes to reach a mug off the top shelf. I poured myself some hot chocolate that was sitting on the stove. I took a sip, then dismissed myself to get dressed.