It should have been a perfectly normal day for Chris Halliwell. He was nine years old, in the fourth grade at the nearby elementary school, on the swim team. Nothing unordinary about that. Not counting the whole half-witch/half-angel deal and the frequent demon appearances interrupting all the time, his life was pretty much the same day after day. One day it would be the demon of fear, the next it would be some fire-breathing maniac. Not much in the way of surprises anymore.

Oh, sure. Occasionally someone would get a new power in the house, or there would be a lull in the attacks as the underworld attempted to reassemble its demons again (funny how it never seemed to work, yet they kept trying it anyway), but that wouldn't throw him off too much. Take what you can get and don't complain.

Only lately Wyatt, his eleven-year-old brother, had been acting weird. Refusing to kill demons because he was a "pacifist" all of a sudden, even though he used to love vanquishing them so much that he freaked their mother out. Saying that his powers were on the fritz, so he couldn't heal or orb. Yet he'd manage to get from place to place just as quickly…

"It's just a phase," Piper, his mother, had been saying to his Aunt Phoebe a couple of days ago while they washed dishes after dinner.

"Oh, I'm sure," Phoebe agreed. "He'll be fine in no time."

Chris shrugged now, rising from his bed. The sun was shining through his window for the first day after three weeks of nothing but fog, and he grinned happily as he dressed and brushed his teeth.

"Chris, are you awake?" Piper called into his room.

"Yup!" Chris chirped. "It's sunny, Mom, look!"

"I saw!" Piper exclaimed. "What a relief. I'm sure the garden will be happy, don't you think?"

"Yup!"

The garden had been Chris' idea. Out in their yard he'd dug up some of the grass to make a dirt patch and planted herbs and odd plants that his mother and aunts used for spells, but couldn't buy easily. Wyatt was going to help, but now Chris worked it with some help from his cousin Mel, who was seven and a half. Wyatt didn't want much of anything to do with Chris these days, but Chris didn't think much of it since it was "just a phase," as his mother put it so often.

Suddenly the temperature of the room seemed to drop down to nothing. Chris shivered and clutched his t-shirt, dropping his toothbrush in surprise. He started to sweat and his ears rang for some unexplainable reason.

Panicked, he whipped around to search for the demon. This was the worst part of the demon attack, the part where the demon wasn't in sight and had the advantage. But…where was the demon?

Then, just as quickly as chill came, it vanished.

Chris' shaking ceased, and the terrible ringing stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief, sitting down on his old plastic stool—

He fell over.

Where was the plastic stool? Wasn't it always right by the sink? His eyes scanned the room for any sign of it, but it wasn't there. In fact, a lot of things were missing. His toothbrush wasn't on the floor anymore, the toothpaste bottle was pink with Barbie on it instead of the green monster one he and Wyatt had picked out, and his cup was missing. But there were still blue towels with rubber duckies on them, and Wyatt's and Mel's and Katie's toothbrushes were still there.

Yet everything that belonged to Chris in the room had disappeared.

Chris closed his eyes tight and reopened them. It was the same thing, though—the room was void of all of his possessions. Blinking rapidly, he got back on his feet and walked into his room.

Immediately he tripped on something hard and landed on a blue colored carpet. The carpet in his room was beige, though…and the walls had painted airplanes on them. His Aunt Paige had painted them on. Now they were blue, too.

And there was a treadmill and elliptical in the room where his bed and dresser once were. In the corner where he'd kept his toys were a yoga mat and some barbells; by his window where he'd kept books was an exercise ball.

What was it, April Fools Day? But…it was November. April 1st wasn't for months. Besides, didn't his mother and aunts have a gym membership for the family? Hadn't Chris and Mel and Katie gone to the pool at the gym while they all worked out a million times? Why did they need all of this equipment?

"Mom?" Chris called out. "Mom!"

"Wyatt, is that you?" asked Piper. "You sound funny."

"No, Mom, it's me, Chris. There's something wrong with my…"

Piper walked into the room with a frown on her face. Chris took a step back—this wasn't the mother he knew. She was a lot slimmer looking, with classy earrings and a work suit. Not wearing her usual jeans and t-shirt like a normal person would.

"Mommy, where are you going?" he laughed. "You look all weird."

"Who are you?" she demanded harshly. She whipped a make-up tray out of her black leather purse and began to expertly apply some powdery thing on her face. "Look, I don't have any time. I'm late for a meeting. If you're some kind of a demon or spawn of one, go bother Phoebe. It's her day to stay with the kids."

"But Mom…"

She looked at him disgustedly. "I'm not your mother, you odd little creature. Just…ugh. I'm late. I can't deal with this right now."

"But you don't go to mee—"

"Go talk to Phoebe!"

He stood dumbstruck in the room with eyes as wide as saucers until the sharp click-clacking of Piper's heels disappeared down the hallway and the front door slammed shut. Once the roar of the engine tore down their street, he finally snapped out of it.

Racing down the stairs to the breakfast table, he yelled, "Aunt Phoebe! There's something wrong with Mom—"

But when he got there his cousins and brother were sitting with toaster waffles in front of them. Mel dropped the bottle of syrup, Katie knocked her chair over, and Wyatt…smirked?

"Mommy!" Katie, only five years old, screamed. "Mommy, Daddyyyyyyy!"

Phoebe raced into the kitchen from the basement, Cole not far behind.

"What is it, honey? We need to fix that leaky pipe before…" She saw Chris and frowned. "Are you one of the neighbor kids? Look, honey, you're welcome in here anytime, but don't you think you should knock…?"

"I don't need to knock!" Chris laughed nervously. "This isn't funny, Aunt Phoebe."

Wyatt snorted.

"Honey, isn't your mommy looking for you?" Phoebe asked him patiently, walking over and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"She just left," Chris said, pointing out the window. "Didn't you see her?"

"Well, then, where's your daddy?"

"You know where he is," said Chris doubtfully. He took a step back, freeing himself of Phoebe's grip. "What's wrong with you? He's been gone for years."

"Oh, really? Are you home alone?"

"No, you're here. Uncle Cole is here." Chris looked frantically around the table. "Mel? Katie?"

Both girls looked away from him, freaked out.

"Wyatt?" Chris tried desperately.

His older brother stuffed his face with toaster waffle and let out what seemed to be a cross between a snort and a choke.

"You…you don't know who I am?" Chris said quietly.

"No worries, you can stay here until your mommy comes back, alright?" said Cole. "We'll watch him, we've got nothing better to do while the others go to school," he told Phoebe.

Phoebe nodded, then turned to Chris. "Does your mommy have a cell phone number?"

Chris shook his head. "No…she doesn't have a cell phone, I don't think. You and Aunt Paige have cell phones, not mommy."

"The kid's obviously delusional," Cole noted. "Maybe we should take him to a doctor."

"No!" Chris protested. "You think I'm crazy, don't you? Some demon must have made you forget…I can't believe this. This is nuts."

"Demon? You know about demons? Is your mommy a witch, too?"

"Yes! She's your sister!" Chris exclaimed. Finally he stamped his foot in frustration. "You know what? Whatever. I don't care. I'm going to school. Maybe you'll stop being so weird by the afternoon."

Before leaving the house, he paused to see if they'd call back for him, if they'd be normal again.

They didn't. He left.