A Shard of Glass

Chapter 6 - The Glass Shard

The last few days have been a whirlwind. I have been constantly reminding each of my siblings of things that they need to do while I am away and they have been consistently reassuring me that they will be fine.

I know they will be, but I just need to make sure. 

I say my goodbyes with a few tears on my part. My brothers and sisters chatter excitedly about my new adventure. Jason has demanded that I send a runner with updates on what I do at the Shard. I don't know what to expect really, but I have the feeling that reality will not live up to his expectation.

With only the clothes on my back, the watch on my wrist, and the application in my pocket, I leave the only home I have ever known.

The first thing that hits me when I step out onto the street is the stench which is amplified by the morning sun. A ghastly mix of decaying matter and human waste, with the slightest hint of sweat and overcooked street food. My feet hit the warm, dry clay just outside our shack and I start up the track towards the Glass Shard. 

The sun beats down mercilessly reflecting at odd angles from the rusting rooves and walls of the shacks, only adding to the heat, and every inch of ground is populated with bustling people, purposefully moving in every direction. 

I navigate my way expertly through them. I know these streets, and I learned the ways in which the traffic flows. It is like a river really, with eddies and swirls. You begin to learn its patterns and how to use the currents to your advantage. But nothing can stop you from colliding with people on all sides in a hasty sweat exchange. I imagine I would be disgusted if I weren't already disgusting myself. 

I look up at the piercing Glass Shard in the distance guiding me like a beacon. It grows larger with every block closer I get. Once its base platform is within visual distance, I stop briefly to admire it and its beauty.

The seemingly endless crowds of Harlem come to an abrupt end. It is as though an invisible wall stands between the paved platform and the clay track keeping the Harlemers out. 

Fighting against my basic instincts, I step through the last of the crowd and past the invisible wall onto the platform. The rough pavers feel strange beneath my feet. The cold and grainy texture is rough against my soles.

Standing up here, I feel as though I am on a stage, but as I look back towards the teeming crowds below I see no one so much as glance my way. 

For the first time in my life, I am truly alone. 

I turn back to the blinding shard, the sun reflecting off the mirrored glass into my eyes. It must be nearly nine. 

That's good, I think to myself. I am early. I walk up to what I assume is the door, but before I push it open the glass separates before my eyes creating an opening. Cold, dry air gushes out, blowing the loose strands of my matt hair behind me. It provides instant relief from the endless heat, but for some reason, it fills me with discomfort. 

A lump forms in my throat and I struggle to swallow. What am I thinking! Coming here is a mistake. I don't belong here. 

Still standing outside I look at the clean white entrance and I almost turn and run but instead, I freeze in the crosshair where hot and cold meet, allowing the cool breeze to brush over my skin and the heat to warm my back.

Every fiber of my being wants to turn back to our shack, climb beneath the duvet with my brothers and sisters and pretend like this is all some terrible nightmare but the other part of me remembers that I am not doing this for me. I have never done anything for myself and this will be no exception. My family needs me.