The harsh clattering of cutlery and pans in the kitchen caused Grace to sit upright, immediately vigilant from her slumber. She looked to her left, noticing Jace hanging off her arm. A small puddle of his drool had collected on the thin covers, drenching them in his saliva and slightly dampening his face. Smiling slightly at the sight of his blissful features, Grace wrapped the small blanket from Jace's bed over her small shoulders before retreating into the kitchen.
As soon as she opened the door, she was overwhelmed by the smell of scrambled eggs sizzling on top of the stove. Steam was creating subtle swirls in the air directly above the pan and curling around the bottom of the microwave, which was above the warm surface. Alsiah was holding a spatula firmly in her dominant hand and a plate in the other, scooping the food carefully onto the plate. Humming under her breath, she turned toward the table, coming to an abrupt halt once she noticed Grace. A smile brightened her soft features and touched the corner of her eyes, the warmth and comfort that her bed provided still shrouding her from the horrors that awaited once the fatIgue dispersed.
"Oh, good morning, Grace," She gestured towards the table, raising her eyebrows in questioning. "Would you like some breakfast? Mason told me that you didn't eat too much last night."
"That'd be great, thanks," Grace didn't attempt to smile, although her harsh and worried features lessened into an expression that could have almost been mistaken for a small shred of bliss or comfort. Although, she felt none of those, only an emptiness that covered the bitter sadness due to all that she had witnessed. Grace pulled out one of the wooden chairs that had been neatly tucked under the table and sat down cautiously- the wood looked old, as though it could break at any moment, and she didn't want that on her conscience. Alsiah placed the scalding plate in front of her before rushing back toward the unattended stove.
Slowly, the rest of the houses habitants gathered in the kitchen and sat at the table, although Jace remained asleep in the bedroom. Everyone was silent for a few uncomfortable moments before Emili cleared her throat to speak. Her hair had been delicately placed atop her head in the familair style that Grace had become so accustomed to. There was no longer any sign that she had revealed any negative emotion, besides the sense of distaste that she constantly radiated from her pursued lips, perfect posture, and the scolding glare that she maintain.
"Have we established a plan yet?" She glanced around the table, sustaining eye contact with Grace slightly longer than she had with the others. "We're vulnerable here-"
"Should we be discussing this with certain people in the room?" Mason inquired quietly, looking at Alsiah for support.
Emili's posture straightened, although Grace couldn't seem to understand how, considering she had been as stiff as a board prior to her sudden adjustment, "Why wouldn't she be here? She has every right to be at this table, and you both know why. We are sitting here like pigs waiting to be slaughtered, and you know it!"
The woman took a deep breath, leaning back into her chair tiredly as she tucked a strand of her that had become loose behind her ear. "They're going to find us if we don't leave. Jackson hasn't come back, and if he's smart, he won't come until things settle down and we all know that they won't. Without his deliveries, we'll run out of inventory and the government will starve us out."
YOU ARE READING
When the Sun Cries
Science FictionGrace Herlum was never meant to be born. The human population was massive and had continued to expand at an astounding rate. The government began to panic, causing hasty decisions and job cuts that effected people world wide. But in 2060 a new law w...
