The Sparrow

Chapter Three

The next morning rolls around in a similar way to the one before, with Reza waiting for the others to arrive. They are supposed to meet at the fence at eight thirty every morning, but Reza has been sitting here since six. He doesn't have a phone or music to keep him occupied like the others his age, but he doesn't require such distractions. Nature sings its own music, though people seldom pause to listen to the voices of the early birds and the symphony of frogs and crickets.

Reza's eyelids are heavy today, reminding him of the lack of sleep he got the night before, though he is no stranger to sleep deprivation. Before heading out the door of his shabby apartment,  he pulled his only hooded sweatshirt over his head to ward off the morning chill. He was able to remove the bandage on his arm before he left, as the wound had finally decided to quit bleeding. Every time the fabric of his hoodie brushes against the bruised flesh though, it is still tender and painful.

While he is waiting in the tree that resides just above his usual spot atop the fence, Reza allows his right hand to rest against his aching forearm, warding off the soreness that surfaces. The young Leofwin has been thinking about last night's events and his dirty pile of laundry since he arrived this morning, trying to occupy himself with thoughts of anything but Tarsis. He watches the sun rise, fighting off the mist that hovers like a spirit over the small city streets.

He will have to work harder and rise in ranking so he can get a larger pay check, and maybe even earn enough money to move from the housing the government had given him. He truly hates that place.

Reza had nibbled on a slice of bread on his way over this morning, but his stomach is already complaining again. The coins in his pocket feel heavy, but the young boy shoves the thought away quickly. That is what will buy his lunch for the day, and he is not going to waste it so soon. Reza pulls his hood further over his eyes and nestles into the crook of the tree, his back pressed up against the rough trunk as he forces his mind to other things.

He inevitably falls victim to the nice temperature and relaxes, mind drifting from laundry to thoughts of slumber. His is eyes just begin to close in the warming air when an image of Tarsis, fair face blood splattered and crusted with insanity, plows itself into his brain. You should have stayed at home, little brother. Tarsis whispers, before running a blade through Reza's abdomen. 

The pain is nearly plausible, tearing through the rest of his body like a fire. He fights a scream and reminds himself that it is only a dream, that nothing actually happened. That Tarsis would never do something like that. Reza squeezes his eyes shut and the grip on his arm tightens until the sharp, burning pain is enough to chase the specter away. Even when it leaves, the pain in his stomach remains.

A sheen layer of sweat covers his brow when he opens his eyes and he has to fight to gain control of his emotions. His stomach lurches, but there isn't enough to come back up, thankfully. That is what he gets for falling asleep.

Reza hardly has time to get himself together before he feels someone's presence nearing. With a soft curse, he looks down to see a thin ribbon of blood dripping down his pale skin. He had dug his cursed nails into his arm again, disrupting the already red, angry sores from hours earlier. He carefully pushes his sleeve up to avoid staining it and holds his arm out to the side, allowing the air to sooth the pain. The wound isn't bleeding a lot, but it is more than enough to gain some attention from his squad mates. Even if he pulls his sleeve back down in attempts to cover it from their view, the crimson will just bleed through the grey material of his sleeve, anyway.

A presence nears the fence and Reza wonders briefly if he has enough time to return to the complex, dress this wound and get back here before the others arrive, but he immediately knows that he would run out of time. The squad would start without him if he tried to leave and come back now, because he would be far too late to expect the others to wait. With a vexed sigh, Reza looks through the thinning branches below him to see the person who has stopped in front of the fence.