ACT I, CHAPTER THREE ❛an empty promise, a bottle of rum❜ content: drug addiction/withdrawal, toxic family situations, violence, parental abuse (physical), general angst, underage drinking.
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Byatt wakes up Madaket with her stirring, pulling the blanket off of her right leg and sighing as she grows conscious. Madaket does not open her eyes just yet, clinging to the last few moments of her dream. It was something about hopping from building to building, running away from a group of angry Peacekeepers. Byatt and Madaket were too fast for them, and they laughed together as they lept over alleyways and scrambled overtop of solar panels.
When Madaket sleeps at Byatt's house, she never has nightmares. It's one of the many benefits of having someone to chase the demons away. Normally, Madaket would wake up in a cold sweat in an empty room, with not even her mother to soothe her back to sleep. Now, when Madaket needs comfort, she can simply reach out and touch the warm skin of her best friend. Her fears melt away, and she can fall back to sleep.
Byatt groans as she rises, and Madaket finally allows herself to wake up as well. Light is shining in through the curtains, illuminating the mess from dinner last night. Napkins lay strewn about the table, scraps of food dried and stuck to the plates. Byatt begins making a pile of dishes.
"Good morning," Madaket says softly, rubbing her eyes as she props herself up on one elbow.
"Mornin'," Byatt whispers, grinning at the sound of Madaket's voice. "Don't be too loud. Grizzlies are all asleep."
Madaket corrects the volume of her voice as she looks around the room. Indeed, she sees that all five of them are curled in their blankets by the space heater. Their little faces are unmoving, mouths drooped open and eyelids twitching as dreams fill their minds. Madaket can't help the smile that curls her lips. There's a yearning, deep in her chest, to have more mornings like this. Mornings where she tip-toes to avoid waking her siblings and listens to their sleeping breaths. It's a warmth that spreads through her veins and warms her blood as she helps Byatt clear the table of plates.
On the fire escape, Byatt takes to cleaning the dishes in a pail of collected rainwater while Madaket washes the napkins with a bar of soap and a brush. The two of them work to the sound of voices from the street and other apartments, water splashing and car horns honking. Even on the ninth floor, the smoggy sky stinks of car exhaust and ash from cigarettes and trash fires. By the time Madaket drapes the napkins over the windowsill, Byatt is putting the dishes in a small drying rack. They dump the pail (after making sure nobody is at the bottom, of course) and climb as soundlessly as possible back into the living room, snapping the window shut and carrying the dish rack to the kitchen.
Upon placing the rack on the counter, Byatt points at a chair and gestures for Madaket to sit while she fixes a plate to go. She packs it full of spare mutton, tomatoes, and greens. Then, she places it in front of Madaket.
