I climbed the carpeted stairs, sighing in nostalgia as I gazed upon my bedroom door. I put my hand on the shiny brass knob and pushed the door open. Everything was just as I left it; not a thing was out of place. My old HP Pavillion laptop sat opened on my desk, the screen black.
Sitting down on my hot pink IKEA desk chair, I turned on the laptop and reached for my iPad Air from the top of my maple wood dresser, the battery long since died. I picked up the charging cable and plugged it into the tablet, hearing the familiar ping as the device slowly came to life. Placing the iPad back on the dresser, I logged into my laptop. The fan is still as loud as ever after all these years. I mentally noted, a small smile forming on my face.
“How am I going to do this?” I said under my breath. “Can’t just say “Hey, everybody! I’m back from the dead!” That’s too much of a shock.” I pondered this for a good ten minutes when I heard the garage door open. Oh shit. Mom’s back. What do I do? I thought as panic filled every fiber of my being. Just when I was about to make a run for my closet to hide, my mother came upstairs and saw me. Her eyes wider than dinner plates and her face pale like she’d seen a ghost. I offered her a sheepish smile and a small wave of my hand before saying, “Surprise?”