Running Wolf

1: mornings

words: 1244

edited

...

Katya wakes up with a jolt. She instantly go for her knife however can see that it was just her phone lighting up. She swipes the green button.

"What." Her voice croaks.

"Get up. You have work in 30." Her uncle said, voice sounding uninterested.

She rolls her eyes and look towards the window. The sun is just beginning to peak. "What the fuck kind of job has me starting at-" she glances at the clock, "-seven a.m.?"

"Eva's damn bakery that's what. And don't you swear at me. Now get up. It's beyond me why you aren't use to waking up this early. Seriously kid." She groans as she ripped the bed sheets away, stomping all the way to the bathroom.

"Like you said, I'm a kid." She says, sass laced in her tone.

"You're 21 for Christ Sake." She could practically see him rolling his eyes.

"I can't hear you, I'm taking a piss." She clicks her phone closed.

___

Mornings were made by the devil. Especially Mondays. I just fucking hate them. This was most of Katya's thoughts this morning. And every other Monday morning.

She gets out when her skin can't take the heat and dries her body quickly with a towel in attempt to not shiver at the cold wind. She swore when the clock read that she only had 10 minutes to get up and drive towards the city.

Get dress in all black (because it's New York and it's shit cold, why bother) and her lucky boots. Old Faithful. It has a lot more duct tape then they should and when wet, it's squeals bloody murder but living on her salary (which is equivalent to nothing) doesn't give you time (or a full pocket) to get better ones. She stuffs her book bag with her phone, writing notes and books. Her mind sparks of an idea and she held her pen in her mouth and notepad in the others as her left hand searched for her Kashi cereal. Coming out empty-handed.

She frowned, taking away my focus at looking to see the empty space where her cereal should be. Then she rolls her eyes. There's no food.

She ends up with some granola bars she found and OJ with a sticky that says both items expired in about a week. She took a little bit too much time resulting in her rushing towards her bike. It was ruby red Harley Davidson motorcycle, and one of her greatest possessions. Besides her boots.

She drives down the dirt paths for about five minutes until she reaches actually roads. It was a bit of a shock that there are this many cars early this morning but that it dawned on her that this really is New York. That the Minnesota streets she knew were gone.

Finally, she gets in front of said bakery. A woman had already caught her eyes thought the window and she smiles, waving her in. Katya gestures to her bike and she calls someone over. He pushes the door open and immediately gives her a hand.