The Initials | Nanowrimo 2023

1| The Awakening

Blades made of grass dig into the soft, white, skin on Cloud's back but it's the pungent char of ash lingering in the air that forces his green eyes open.

He wakes in the woods staring up at a dull sky, all alone, feeling wet and sticky.

His abs tighten as he thrusts himself into a sitting position, peering down at his bare torso to find the scarlet culprit clinging to his bruised knuckles and sprayed across his muddy chest.

Only then does he notice the dead carcass sitting just a few paces away from him.

The deer, or at least the head of what formerly resembled one, lays motionless on the uneven ground, seemingly left discarded after its hind legs were gruesomely removed with only part of its liver and intestines remaining.

It stares back at Cloud with its glazed over eyes, the only semblance of life remaining belonging to the parasites swimming around in the eye like fish in a tank.

"Again?" he mutters, scrambling onto his bare feet after hearing the sounds of the forest, almost slipping because of how numb his legs feel.

The revolting smell of rotting meat makes him heave, the cramps only intensifying as he spots the surrounding animals laying dead on the ground, deliberately placed around the spot where he had once been sleeping so peacefully.

It had been a few months since the last time something like this had happened but seemingly all attempts to get rid of the smell of death in his memory have failed; almost as if it burnt itself into the inner hairs of his nostrils so that each subsequent encounter feels that much worse.

Eventually he climbs to his feet and proceeds to limp away from the charred patch of exposed earth, wincing with each painful step as he climbs the nearest bank to gather his bearings.

Although he's never felt the cold, he is partly grateful that he still has on his boxer shorts, even if they are covered in a thick cake of mud and grime sticking to him like a heavy layer of extra skin.

From there it only takes a few seconds for him to figure out the way home, surprised to find himself so close this time; the episodes of missing time usually sending him much deeper into the woods.

Closer to where she was...on that day.

He sighs, grumbling the very first words that come to mind to quieten those thoughts. "Great."

Cloud stumbles his way to the nearest dirt path his parents spent weeks setting up by trekking through the woods on their off hours of their busy lives but he assumed they didn't mind given the alternative which was mending the tiny cuts on the soles of his feet.

The sky brightens up by the time the residence made of wood and glass comes into view but Cloud places the time at anywhere between four to five in the morning, having always hated summers in Everwood for their terribly long days and increasingly short nights.

It's an entirely different ball game in the winter months however. The sun hardly exists at that time, reminding him yearly why he never audibly complains about not being able to sleep with sunlight bursting into his room from the windows opposite his bed.

Cloud sneaks in from through the sliding glass, finding the door left slightly ajar from when he must have escaped in the night, given that there is a chill that holds around ankle level like an invisible smog.

Not wanting to wake his parents, he sneakily tiptoes into the downstairs shower, that was indeed installed for situations just like this, but even then his lightest step add to the blueprint of his movements as he unknowingly leaves behind a trail of muddy footprints.

He waits for the water to heat up, observing the muddy puddle forming at his feet slowly trickle into the drain.

He steps into the jetstream of water, unflinching as the scolding water pelts down onto his shoulders, remaining unfazed even when the room has already steamed up and his skin itches from the heat.

He grabs a towel and skips up to his room, throwing on a blinding white shirt and a fresh pair of shorts before going back to clean up the mess that he made.

Still drying his damp head of chestnut curls with the same towel, he realise that Mr and Mrs Jefferson are already awake.

"Crap-"

Amy Jefferson stops crouching on the ground, feverishly pulling the yellow rubber gloves off her hands and pushing her wavy brunette hair behind her ears.

She sighs, squeezing her lips together whilst he avoids eye contact. "Oh Cloud."

"I'm fine, all limbs intact." He murmurs, throwing his towel over his shoulder before shaking each of his limbs.

Jonathan lumbers around the kitchen aisle like a rugged giant, favouring his left side because of the slight limp in his right leg.

"Sit." he commands, his husky voice sounding uncharacteristically soft as he nods his head to the side, directing Cloud towards the handmade wooden table. "You should eat."

Cloud rolls his eyes but doesn't bother arguing, pulling out a chair and dropping into it, unknowingly missing the knowing look between his adoptive parents.

Jonathan scoops up a bowl of freshly made oats and carries it to the table, placing it in front of Cloud before rocking back in the seat opposite.

"What was it this time?" He inquiries, his low, gravelly, voice hushing the light chirpings of the morning birds as well as the rattling of Cloud's spoon clanking against his bowl.

"Deer, Crows, scorch marks...the usual." Cloud mutters, pinching his ear as he rests his elbow on the table.

Jonathan soothes his wife, gently rubbing his rough hand over hers when Amy places her hand over his shoulder. "Anything else?"

Cloud struggles to swallow his next spoonful, having hoped that they wouldn't have been able to see through him so easily.

"And a Bear."

The almost simultaneous shuffling of the Jefferson's reminds Cloud of why he always hates the mornings after the blackouts.

They're pretty good at masking their feelings from him but after eighteen years together he can just tell by their tense postures that they're worried.

"I'll call Doctor Fitzgerald after work, see if I can get you started on those stronger meds we talked about." Amy struts towards the stove to hide her face, looking around for things to busy herself with. "Your father has a shift at the fire station, so I'll drop you off at school on my way to work."

"I can just take my bike, there's no-"

"-Honey, we've talked about this!"

Cloud casts his green eyes away from his mother, locking eyes with Jonathan who appears just as unwilling to agree to letting him ride his bike to school like he used to.

"Can't blame me for trying." he sighs into his bowl, swallowing another spoonful that gets stuck in his throat.

"It's only been a few months." Mr. Jefferson offers, catching Amy's eye as he turns in his seat. "We can talk about this again after the summer."

"But until then you'll...Cloud?" Mrs. Jefferson frowns, noticing something off as he scratches at his throat. "Jon, something's wrong!"

Mr. Jefferson turns around just quick enough to catch Cloud rush to the sink and choke up a plume of inky black feathers, blood and large chunks of undigested meat.

Cloud wipes his mouth with his arm, peering into the sink with watery eyes, his abs aching after a second fit of violently throwing up.

"Yeah, that can't be good."