The Castle On The Hill

Chapter One: Part 1

Chapter One.

Part-1

Sam woke up feeling the sun on his face. He couldn't quite place where he was at first. Although it became quite common for him to wake up in unfamiliar places, still, he couldn't remember where he was immediately. He squinted his eyes to get a better look at the room. Basically, an empty room except for the cot he was in and a wooden table with a chair tucked was directly opposite him. A moderately spacious window occupied the area above the table of which both the partitions were open. The curtains on the window all stooped on one side.

A wave of wind came fluttering the curtains and ruffled his hair. He could taste the salt in the air which indicated he was close to the ocean. When the contrast between his dark room and the bright exterior subsided somewhat, he could see the sun from the open window.

The afternoon sun was blazing softly in the sky-turning its surrounding area into a scarlet hue. The sun was already slanted towards the west and it looked like it would go down after about another half an hour or so.

Sam could tell he had overslept. He looked at his watch which confirmed his hunch. It was already over half past five. He looked around the room again and his gaze stopped on a bag. The front chain was open and clothes peeked out. Realization struck. He remembered where he was and how he came to be. His shoulder dropped as he relaxed and yawned.

At the same time, he was surprised that he had overslept. That meant he had considered this place to be safe, safe enough for him to sleep defenselessly. He was surprised at the fact that he had considered this place to be safe in the short period time he had stayed here. He couldn't tell if dropping his defenses was a good thing or not but he didn't dislike the feeling.

He rolled around the bed and stretched his body for another few minutes trying to shake the inertness from sleeping too long.

He then stood up intending to go to the toilet. He couldn't take five steps before wobbling on his feet. He balanced himself at the last minute by grabbing the door handle. His body felt weakened and his stomach grumbled right on cue. How many hours has it been since he last ate? After dinner last night at about 8p.m no food went in his belly. It's been over 20 hours now.

"Now that I think about it-" Sam thought while washing his face on the sink. "Why didn't Mary wake me up today?"

For the past two days he's been staying here, she always dragged him down to have breakfast with them.

Mary was the daughter of his acquaintance Roy, who was letting him squat on the small room above his beach bar. Because of his circumstances, he had to maintain reasonable distance as to not involve anyone. But Mary and Roy had the tradition of eating their breakfast on the bar kitchen and apparently the more the merrier, so Mary woke him and dragged him down to the kitchen these two mornings he spent here. So why didn't she come today? Could it be that something was wrong?

He immediately shook his head to dispel the idea. Surely, he was overreacting.

He wiped the water from his face with a fresh paper towel and looked at his reflection on the mirror. The mirror was somewhat opaque as it hadn't been used in a long time but he could see enough. And it didn't paint a pretty picture. Dark circles under his eyes for not following any sleeping routine, slightly sinking cheeks and a scrawny beard. The uneven hairs that were sticking out of his head resembled a crow's nest. His hair were naturally curly and add to the fact that the only time he came close to bathing was when he went swimming in the ocean-the salt water made it curl even more. He unsuccessfully tried to level his hair with his hands but quickly gave up. He then took the bag from the corner and placed it on the bed. He didn't intend to change his clothes so quick as he was wearing them for only two days but they were starting to smell. He closed the zipper after donning a fresh pair of t-shirt, jeans and wrapped the old ones in a plastic bag before stuffing them in the bag. If Mary saw the condition of his clothes, she'd no doubt want to clean them. He couldn't in good conscience let her do that. The bar didn't have any washing machine (of course, why would a bar have them anyway!) or he'd would have cleaned them himself. He decided to clean them later at a laundromat. He didn't need more than two sets of clothes as he wasn't planning to stay here long anyway.