At precisely 5:03 AM, on October 27th, 1993, my baby brother, Brenden Jörgensen, entered the world, weighing in at 8lbs 3 ounces.
Funny enough, instead of encouraging words that usually accompany the birth of a child, I heard a line from my father’s lips that would never be let down in the years to come.
"Why does he look blue?" My dad said with concern, painting his face and voice while holding the camcorder and getting everything on video.
"Idiot, he’s a healthy pink!" the doctor, a stern woman in her late 50s, reprimanded, causing me to chuckle to myself.
The no-nonsense doctor carefully went to work holding Baby Brenden and allowing my father to cut his umbilical cord before handing him off to the nurses to be cleaned, weighed, and measured.
There was also a small amount of tests done on him, but I was aware these were standard things done after a baby was born.
Meanwhile, Amanda wasn’t in great shape and was quickly rushed off to the operating room; apparently, she had hemorrhaged during the birth and was bleeding out, and here was when another VERY important event occurred.
I caught sight of my father moving toward the doctor before she left the room, about to say something that would forever change Amanda’s life, so as per my plan, I activated my Talent and spoke.
’Don’t move; allow her to go without another word.’
As if he had been struck by lightning, my father halted his steps and watched Amanda get carted off for a moment before walking over to the neatly swaddled baby Brenden and giving him a good look over.
’Whew, one crisis adverted, and another step in the plan completed.’
If there was one thing Amanda did that was more annoying than the sound of her voice, it was constantly complaining about a specific procedure forced upon her after the birth of Brenden.
The procedure in question was a tubal ligation, aka getting her tubes tied.
With a couple of quick snips and some cauterization, Amanda was effectively sterilized and no longer able to have more children. For a person like her, who practically made her entire identity revolve around the fact she was a mother, it was basically a death sentence.
In a sense, it also spawned her intense acts of fawning over primarily Brenden to a point where one of my past love interests had commented that she believed the b***h was in love with her own son.
That very simple procedure caused a lifetime of annoyance for Brenden and me as every time we were around Amanda, she would parade us around to her friends, showing us off, and for someone as antisocial as I am, it was a f**king nightmare to live through.
’I just need to remember to plant the thought in Dad’s head that he can’t bang Amanda anymore, and we should be good. I don’t give a damn if the b***h has kids with that asshole Seth, but so long as her attention is away from us, we should be fine.
---
Eventually, Amanda was patched up and sent back to the room where she could spend time with Baby Brenden. And if I’m being real with you guys, if you didn’t know her as I did, you’d think she was a picture-perfect mother with how she was fawning over her newborn.
It didn’t take long for me to be ’introduced.’ Of course, I played my part, giving an Oscar-worthy performance if I do say so myself, essentially playing out the things I remember from the home videos my father had shot on the camcorder.
The touching "You’re my baby brodder, I will take care of you now" scene played out, warming the hearts of everyone present but making me itch from embarrassment.
For the rest of the morning and subsequent day, things were relatively quiet, apart from Baby Brenden crying as all newborns do, but that didn’t bother me too much.
The parade of family members from both sides flooded in one after another in order to meet the youngest addition, and when Nanny and Grandpa entered, I jumped up and down, demanding attention.
Apart from that, not a whole lot happened, and overall, Brenden’s birth was a huge success.
When the clock struck 7 PM and visiting hours were over, I ended up needing to utilize my Talent again so that I could stay in the hospital with Brenden, but I made sure that my father was left out of the equation.
8:00 PM
A nurse brought Amanda and me our meals, and we ate before she fed my brother from a bottle since she had some weird things about breastfeeding that I didn’t understand.
9:00 PM
At my supposed bedtime, I was given a small mattress to put inside my playpen, and of course, I ’Went To bed’ earning a lot of praise from the nurse who was assigned to Amanda.
10:00 PM
Amanda finally fell asleep with Baby Brenden resting on her chest, and I, knowing that the three of us were now completely alone, was listening to every sound in the silent room for any changes, with my senses on high alert.
If there were ever a time for something to happen, it would be around…
10:18 PM
’Ah..would you look at that? The nurses aren’t supposed to arrive until 11; that can only mean some moron decided to make a move.’ Clutching my hidden dagger under my pillow, I faintly emulated the sound of snoring while cracking my eyes open just enough to observe the door to our room.
Moving slowly and using the shadows to cover themselves was the figure of a person.
Although it was dark in the room, between the numerous monitoring machines and several nightlights, there was plenty of lumination for me to see everything the intruder included.
When I saw this person, who stood around five foot 3 inches, carefully closing the door, I broke out into a sadistic smirk.
I watched as this person crept forward, arms by their side, until a dull light flashed, and two objects popped into existence.
’Welp, that seals the deal, the idiot’s from the future.’ Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I slowly got up, moved to the edge of my playpen, and spoke using my natural voice.
"You f**king Thought,"
’Psy-Kinesis, Don’t Move!’