A Crown of Clouds

Chapter 1

Sunlight streamed through a crack in my navy blue curtain, the slither of light creeping onto my clammy, sweaty face. I knew I should have fixed the curtains last night, but the thought vanished under a thick blanket of sleep before I could act. The sweat beading on my brow and lips was uncomfortable enough, let alone waking up in wet sheets.

Morning, it was morning already, maybe I would just shut the curtains and pretend it was Sunday again. I wiped the droplets of sweat away from my brows and onto my shirt, I felt and heard the grumble at the same time, shit! I had forgotten to eat again last night, I guess my mind was a little preoccupied with other thoughts, it didn't bother me so much with thoughts of warm food. It was coming up to my Mother's birthday in three weeks, I tried to push the thoughts deep, deep down where I couldn't hear their wailing for her to come back.

Letting out a moan I dragged myself out of bed and then proceeded to drag my feet across the hallway and into the shower. The cold water flowing in dribs and drabs from the green-stained copper showerhead was a rude shock to the system. Warm showers didn't work anymore, only cold showers could wake me up, miserably cold showers.

Wrapped in towels from head to toe, I sat on the couch surrounded by cardboard boxes, I should probably do something about this sea of boxes, but not today, today I would just focus on getting through. I sunk back into the couch, feeling it close in around me, deep breaths Hal, deep breaths. My new psychologist Josie told me I needed to practice deep breathing. What a hypocrite I thought... listening to her hoarse voice through her coffee and cigarette-stained teeth from no doubt years of abuse. Sure, Josie, I would say in my head, just like you breathe deeply all that nicotine, you two-faced hypocrite.

Opening my eyes from my deep exhale, I caught a glance at the clock. "Shit," late again. My towels flew in a flurry as I rushed to chuck some clothes on, shimmying my jeans on in a jump and running out the door with undone shoelaces. I'd planned to do them up sitting on the steps outside – I didn't even get that far as I went flying out my door, landing on my face. I let out a curse that could have woken the entire apartment as I rubbed and inspected my knees.

Seven months ago I would have cared about being late or letting someone down... now, things had changed. I had no father I remembered, disappearing when I was four, and my best friend, my mother, was gone, dead, killed right in front of my eyes. I couldn't do a thing, a true coward. My Mum's adopted parents, Mr and Mrs Pilsby were kind enough to give me a job at their bakery. The bakery my mother and I once visited every Sunday as a child – now an escape of another kind. These were probably the last two people left on earth I cared a little if I let down – everyone else can go to hell for all I care.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and then rubbed my back, aching from the bastard spring in my mattress, I think sometimes I woke myself up cursing at the spring threatening, I will find you and I will kill you.

Picking up my pace, I was nearly in a light jog, even the slightest exercise might make me cough up my guts. It had been so long since this body had seen real exercise. Keep your head down Hal, don't so much as lookup or you may have to talk to some idiotic stranger marvelling about the weather.

The cobblestones were about all I entertained on the walk to work. The worn, grey stone path reminded me of skipping along here as a girl, then stumbling along highly intoxicated in the arms of James at ungodly hours of the morning. This town would be quite beautiful had it not been now tainted with memories of the past, the past that seemed like a looming shadow. You know, luckily, it was a long walk to town, otherwise, I might have gotten rather chubby from eating pastries. Bakersville was the most devilishly delicious bakery in all of London.

"Hal!? Hal?!" Yelled Mr's Tudor, "are you daydreaming again?" she asked with real concern in her eyes. I shook the blur of daydreams from my head and focused back on reality and the tall sandy-haired customer asking for an apple pie. "I am so sorry Sir! Would you like any sauces with that?" I said, glancing at the blur of blonde without even bothering to focus on his face. The stranger paused for far too long, so long that I thought I may have drifted off again. "Yes please!  I, I," he stuttered as though he wanted to say something more. "You're Hal, aren't you?" he asked with a hint of an awkward smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.