Garnet | KTH

1. Ice Cream Head

Most would say waking up every morning was a gift.

Unless you're living a life where you have nothing to worry about in the future, I guess being eager to awaken makes sense, knowing that you have a blissful life ahead, with a comfortable bed, and a perfect life must be amazing. Not to mention exciting.

I inhaled sharply, as I shift my position, reality rudely clashing with my thoughts. A constant reminder that I don't live that life, instead I wake up to the fear that I might die.

As the dim sun peeked through the window, reflecting an orange line on the ground, I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to keep that tangible feeling of sleep for just a little longer. I didn't want to wake up, and face the responsibilities that lie before me, it seemed so evil and cruel.

Yet the sun was shameless, shining even brighter in its stubborn attempts to wake me up.

I groaned, and opened my eyes to the ceiling of my home-or should I say, a cracked and somewhat collapsed desert.

I sat up, rubbing my back and cracking my neck. I winced at the jabbing pain I felt when I moved my shoulder slightly, from sleeping on a ragged carpet on a hardwood floor. It didn't appear that bad at first glance, but after doing it for years, it developed into the most uncomfortable feeling---to the point I might as well sleep on rocks.

I reached behind me, my cold fingers touching and reaching further up my warm back. I clenched my teeth upon touching the tender, unhealed skin.

Those are probably gonna be big ass bruises.

No one in this city could afford a lot, especially not a proper bed, or even a good quality carpet. Yet the Gems---with their infinite power and resources---refused to help us, or accommodate for our situation. Their interests only lied within themselves and their needs, us humans like a worm asking for a longer life.

I rolled my eyes wondering what those ice cream heads were doing right now.

Likely at the spa, I chuckled to myself, as I slowly stood to my feet and made my way to the kitchen.

I stepped inside, passing the fireplace, which was a pile of chopped wood now black with ash. I walked further, toward a bucket of water lying beside a heated stone for a stove. I picked up the dirty silver cup beside the bucket of water, and dipped it into the pot, watching as it filled with the water my mother grabbed from a nearby lake.

I poured the water over my hands, rinsing all the grime, sweat and dirt off of my fingers. Finally, I rubbed my hands together, and wiped them on one of the three rags hanging on the rod above the bucket of water. I walked outside of our small hut, and into the morning air, eyes instantly meeting the floating city above us.

I watched as the island shifted slightly in the air, buildings sparkling from the morning sunlight reflecting off their windows. Our dirty ones were the polar opposite, absorbing the sun rather than reflecting it, from having not been cleaned in years. Cars of all colours drove around to get where they needed to be, shiny and expensive. I then noticed a golden head of hair walk to the edge, and stare down on our unfortunate city, where they were without a doubt, disgusted at the life we live.

I looked away, and down the dirt street beside me, as owners began setting up food stands for people to buy breakfast. Selling food was common around here, since no one could have a substantial job like in Onavale. So, it was the only other thing to make money off of, with whatever was left on the local farms.

I walked down the mud street, observing heaping buckets of oranges, lemons, grapefruit and grapes. They weren't usually this full, only during the summer season, where there was somewhat more fruits being grown.