The Sacred World

Chapter 9: The Prince

Albert got out of bed, his hair a mess. His eyes carrying luggage. His body moving like a sloth. He slipped on his slide ons, slowly walking towards the bathroom. Dragging his feet as he picked up his tooth brush. Slowly applying the toothpaste onto it and started brushing his teeth. He looked up to the mirror infront of him and stared at his reflection. He looked down to spit out the foam that had built up in his mouth and he looked back up to see something odd. A girl with blackened red eyes, pale skin. Too pale skin. Pasty and dark hair. He looked at him, unmoving. As if she were his reflection.

He could've sworn that he had seen that face before, somewhere, but he was unsure of where. He squinted his eyes staring closer as the image blurred and when his focus came through, he was now simply staring at his own reflection again as it mimicked his every move.

"Weird," he said to himself. He left the bathroom, going back to his room. He took off his shirt, revealing his well sculpted physique. He went into the bathroom, turning the shower handle on and letting the hot air run to build up steam before he entered.

He stared at the shower head, as water poured from it like a watering can for plants. His mind was as drifty as the mist around him.

He stepped out, grabbing his towel and wrapping it around his waist. He walked to the counter and picked up his phone.

15 messages.

He flipped opened his phone, entering Messenger, and seeing the group chat he and his friends were engaged in.

The topic of the chat being Alex and everything related to his death and how Banny had left the group after being released from prison.
He carefully read through the chats, making sure to not make it apparent that he was online and had been reading. He didn't have a say in anything that was being discussed, or more so. He didn't want to have a say in it. He put his phone down before slipping back into his room to get dressed.

He got to the kitchen and opened the top cupboards, taking out the Cocopops box. He took out a bowel and opened the fridge. Taking out the milk and pouring it into the bowel, and only after did he pour out the cereal into the bowel.

"Spoon," he thought.
His eyes wandering around the house as he opens the drawer and took the final spoon out.

The sink had been filled with bowels and spoons and cutlery. It had been his signature. He'd only wash the dishes once there were none present for him to use. Until then, they'd dwell in the sink.
He sat at the table eating and then switched the TV on.

He devoured the cereal, leaving the bowel on the table as he got up and opened the door. He took in a deep breath of the cool breeze.
7 am. Quite early in the morning and the sun was still rising from the East.
Illuminating the sky and redefining the shape and dimensions of the clouds. The birds flying overhead. The perfect conditions for him to go for his usual morning jog. A 10 kilometre jog and a 5 kilometre sprint. It was his daily challenge to himself to do that.

He jogged down the sidewalk of the main road at a moderate pace. He looked at the dogs walking about. Noticing the melodic sounds of birds. The drying due on the grass. The early rising people who were already up and about on garden work and house maintenance. The passing cars, trying to get to work. The flowers creeping to bloom. Insects buzzing about their own business. The cries of cats, as they collected in their groups. He ran past the lady who would stand at the corner of the 4 way intersection stop street and sell newspapers.

Her lazy shouting remained constant trying to sell the papers, "Earleeee-Ceetee-eedeshin!"

He gave her the usual smile he'd give her every morning and she would shrug this off, but this time she waved at him. A new gesture.