Out From the Shadows

Chapter 1

The air tastes sweet from the pastry store down the road. Sprinting has caused my legs to get sore but I can't stop until I hit the shop. I dodge the people walking slowly in front of me and quickly maneuver myself through the opened doorway after I see the patrolmen round the same corner I had rounded twenty-five seconds earlier. I slick back stray locks of hair and smooth down my shirt, trying to collect myself. It was a good day to wear my pants because a skirt or a dress would have restricted me. I turn around for a second to catch the patrolmen pass the store and continue sprinting straight.

Once in the shop, I let out the relieved breath that I had been holding in. The owner smiles at me and waves me to come look at all the delicacies he is selling. I reach into the right pocket of my trousers and I seize the gold coin that I stole off of a merchant at a cake shop a couple blocks back. This one gold coin is going to buy my family a whole week of food while that merchant was going to purchase a fancy cake for his wife's birthday. I scoff at the thought of wealthier people throwing money away when some people scrape together so they don't starve.

Striding towards the counter to look at the pasties, my stomach rumbles with a hunger so fierce I flinch. I search for my favorites, the ones drizzled in chocolate. Behind the thick glass is my next meal. I look up at the man behind the counter to examine who I am dealing with. His eyes show signs of insomnia and his chin is covered in stubble. I know what sleepless nights are like. At least he always has food to eat and a place to sleep.

"I would like fourteen of those," I state.

He bends down to look at the pastries I am referring to. His face shows a slight sign of sadness, maybe even pity.

"That'll cost a gold piece and twelve silver," he recites. His hands brush the white apron tied around his neck and midsection. The summer heat must be making his hands sweaty, or is it his nervousness?

"What!? It was a gold piece last week! You know me, I'm a loyal customer. Can you cut me a deal or something?" I urge, sounding desperate and bewildered.

The man looks down at his feet, his face showing his feeling of helplessness.

"I'm truly sorry Almarie, we had to raise prices due to the decrease of customers. I can sell you eight pastries, but let it be known that I am cutting you a deal. I really am sorry," he replies emptily. It takes all I can to not blame him for my situation. Instead, I blame the stupid royal family and the economy.

"Fine, I'll take eight," I utter, holding back the rage that is bubbling and filling my cheeks with heat.

When the pastries are all wrapped up and put into a brown paper bag, I snatch the bag from the counter and exit as fast as I can to avoid doing anything rash. This is an injustice, letting the poor starve. I shake my head to relieve myself of these thoughts. It won't help feed my family.

Once outside, I search for any left-over signs of the patrolmen. The heat hits me with intensity, sending sweat immediately down the side of my forehead. The sun has just started to sink, the hottest part of the day over, yet making my way home is going to be long and sweaty.

*********

With the sun finally setting behind me, I watch my shadow walk with me. The bag swings with my arms, back and forth, and I watch my shadow do the same. It makes me upset that we will have to make the eight pastries last a week when we could barely make fourteen. My neighborhood is the worst in the district. We have more crimes here than any other place. The poorest of the poor live here. The houses are about 75x50 feet in size and they lack any tidiness or attractiveness. Its the only place we can afford. After my father was laid off, our income decreased dramatically.