The phone rang on the kitchen counter. Wyatt saw the call was from his mom. He rolled his eyes. Normally he'd ignore it. She usually wanted him to "do her a favor" which included god knows what. The last time she wanted him to dye their dog purple to improve its aura. Somehow it was supposed to get rid of its fleas. She came home to a purple dog and began yelling at him. She had completely forgotten the request. If she kept up on her meds, there would be fewer favors. Yet the pills were exchanged for cash and his mother was still nuts.
He popped his cup of noodles in the microwave. He had a minute to kill so he answered it. "Yeah, Ma!" he said, irritation grating in his voice. "Slow down, I can't understand you," It was another manic episode. She began rattling off, feeling as if someone was watching her. "It's okay, mom... Just come home," Wyatt felt the panic in her voice and couldn't help but catch the paranoia. "Wyatt... baby... Wyatt," she said, "lock the door... they're coming for you... lock the door," He assured her he would. She finally hung up. The noodles were long cold.
Wyatt took a step to the door and suddenly, his whole world was pulled out from under him. Men burst into the door. "What are-" he started. Then there was blackness. So much blackness that he was swimming in it, drowning in it. When he came to, he felt waterlogged. He tried to move his arms but found them pinned. Blinkly dumbly, he saw several others sitting in a chair, tied in place. Suddenly he saw a woman speaking and began piecing together what she was saying.
"Super... what?" The burn of an ID number into his skin brought him back to life. "Wait, no! You have the wrong guy! I'm not special. I'm nothing. Let me go... take me home!" Was he going crazy? Was this real? All he could think of was his mother, coming home to an empty house. What would happen to her? What was happening to him?