Switched

The following morning I woke up with the thoughts I don’t wanna go back to school floating in my sleepy mind.
The idea of faking sick and begging my mom to let me stay home was something I was thinking about doing.
I had been so tired.
I just wanted to fall back to sleep.
And that’s exactly what I planned on doing.
I kept my eyes closed, snuggled deeper into my blanket, and waited for sleep to come once again.
But just when I started to doze back off, something happened.
I remembered I already had eleven absences and if I missed another, I would loose all my credits and have to get a stupid appeal to get ‘em back. That was something I would’ve rather not have had to waste my time doing, so I groaned, and reluctantly opened my eyes.

That’s when I completely froze.
My mind went blank.
I was definitely not in my own room.
The walls were painted a pale beige color and were surrounded by white, detailed trim. The floor had a dark cherry varnish that matched the elegant dresser that stood near a huge window which showed a wonderful view of nice, expensive- looking houses.
I blinked a few times and tried to keep myself from completely freaking out.
Trust me, it wasn’t very easy.
My heart was thumping away wildly in my chest.
My palms were sweaty.
And my breaths were coming out short and fast.
I couldn’t get myself to get off the bed; I was still in shock and my legs and arms seemed to not remember how to function properly.

I tried to think of how I could’ve possibly gotten in this strange, yet very nice, room.
The thought of maybe I had gotten drunk the night before and happened to walk into this house by mistake… or perhaps someone brought me to this house, was something that flickered across my mind, but was completely squashed a second later when I told myself that I couldn’t have possibly been drunk because, well, I don’t drink.
I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity.
Then another thought crossed my mind.
Maybe I had been kidnapped.
Maybe I was in the house of some kind of rapist.
Or serial killer.
Why would someone want me? I was good. I didn’t deserve to die.
My breathing became heavier, but still, I tried not to panic.
Panicking wouldn’t get me out of the situation any faster.
I sat up, and vaguely noticed my nails. They were painted red.
How’d they get red? I never paint my nails red.
I didn’t worry about my nails for long, however, because lets face it, my nails were the least of my worries.
My thoughts refocused themselves on trying to figure out where the hell I was, how I got there, and how to get out.
I started to swing my legs over the side of the bed, my mind completely set on sneaking out of the room and finding the front door without being noticed by whoever, if there was anyone that is, was in the house.
I froze in my movements though, when I felt the mattress move and a slight snore come from the area next to me.
I whipped my head around and felt my eyes go as wide as saucers.
My mouth dropped open and before I could stop myself, I screamed.
So much for not panicking.
The person next to me shot up and looked wildly around while saying, “What’s the matter?”
I however, completely lost it, scooted backwards and tumbled out of the bed, onto the floor, landing with a loud thump.
The person on the bed moved and peeked over the side of the mattress to look at me sitting on the floor, a worried expression on their face.
“Oh geez,” The person said. “Are you okay?”
All I could do was sit on the floor and stare up into their face, my mouth still hanging slightly open. No doubt looking like a complete retard.
A few seconds later, I finally found my voice. It came out all weird, high-pitched, and shaky: “Y-you’re Gerard W-Way.”