Silas and Charlie

d a y - o n e

THE :

END OF

RESPECT

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"Thanks Partner, and if you ever tell anyone about this I'll kill you." -Silas Blue

Soft, smooth morning light filters through the half open slits of his eyes - for a moment he is still and sleepy. Then Charlie's brain snaps to the realization that he's almost missed it, and in less than three seconds his feet kick over the duvet covers of his bed, stomp on the floor, and blindly run over to the window. He presses his cheeks to the glass, satisfied that he hasn't slept in too long.

It's 5:02AM, and Charlie's favorite sight in all the world has just begun to take place; the sunrise. Ever since his Grandfather had shaken him from a particularly hard sleep three years ago, and shoved him outside (with surprising strength for someone so old) onto the drew coated lawn - he'd never been the same. It would not have been an exaggeration if you said that Charlie lived for sunrises - he did. For everything that was so chaotic and unplanned in his life, they were the only thing that could be relied on, taking his breath away every time he awoke. This was a time of peace and tranquility as the pink and red hues painted their way across the sky. Charlie felt a sense of pity for all of his neighbors - still in bed on a perfect Saturday, destined to go through the day without any feeling, without living - just existing. His fingers wiggle their way up the window pane, small drops of water nestling in his palms - just him, the sunrise and silence.

-

At 7:30 his phone vibrates beside him, and even though the coveted sight is long gone from the atmosphere it startles him out of a reverie he wasn't aware he was in. He picks it up, bringing the screen close to his face - it's a text from Theo, Charlie's best friend.

c'mon C, me & the gys r playing st. hockey. get ovr here, usual time

A smile creeps onto the corners of Charlie's mouth - he'd tried to teach Theo proper punctuation, but it had never stuck. Nevertheless it was still amusing. His fingers lept across the keys as he sent a message back.

I'm coming, hold your horses Theo - your grammar is still atrocious.

It takes Theo less than two seconds to reply.

dont care, hurry

Laughing Charlie shoves the phone in yesterday's jeans, and walks downstairs. When he reaches the kitchen Amy is already sitting at the table, her feet tucked under her bottom and spooning cereal into her mouth. A natural early bird - unlike himself.

She looks up from her bowl, smiles while tucking a strand of chocolate coloured hair behind her ear, and pauses to wonder why her brother goes out into the middle of the street every weekend, prancing around with long, curved sticks - possibly defying every rule their mother's ever told them. At seven, she was more sensible that any of the other children in her grade - and Charlie always made a point of telling her so.

"I'm going out to play street hockey with Theo and the guys, okay?" He asks with one hand on the door and two feet halfway onto the porch. Amy nods, grinning, before returning to shoveling Froot Loops out of the milk with vigor. Charlie takes a moment to think about his little sister, their relationship was simple and uncomplicated - Amy loved him, and he adored her.

"Bye kiddo," he yells, running out into the lawn backwards, and waving at her through the window. He runs over to their open garage. (Which his mother ceaselessly complained about, but neither Charlie or his Father ever bothered to close it. When she did, it was always opened five minutes later.) Digging through a top-heavy garbage can he finds what he's looking for - it isn't his 'real' hockey stick, because "darn it Charlie those things are expensive and if I ever catch you using that on the street again - you're buying yours from then on." It was actually just a piece of wood with a plastic curved end duct taped on. Theo refused to use anything less than, "what the pros use," but Charlie wasn't that stupid - a steady summer lawn mowing job was not enough to pay for a new hockey stick.