My heart was racing, pounding. My feet were stumbling. My hair was whipping me in the face, and then it was black. That's all I remember about my last memory. But does it matter, now that I'm here, under these great people's protection? I'll let you be the judge of that.
Birds chirping loudly, soft whistling. Typical morning, right? Not when you hear the distant pots and pans clanking on the doors, people yelling at each other. With supplies such as food and coal running low, people have started getting frantic. Some are even going mad. As soon as their furnace runs out, they pick up their pots and pans and wake up all the farmers and coal miners. Pretty annoying actually, because it wakes everyone else up too. Our apartment is the craziest of them all. All the mad people do all day is sit around and wait for the farmers and coal miners to return, and when they do, they nearly attack them with bags to put the coal and food in. That is my typical morning. But what makes my life worse is that my mom has gone mad too.
I've been trying to earn enough money to buy a mule. Maybe then I can travel to the Wild Tree. Some say that if you find it, the people inside will give you refuge. Many say life is much better there. I think so too.
I woke up this morning and found a note on my pillow. Don't know how the heck mom got it under my head. Reading it, I groaned. She leaves one every week. Sometimes they make sense and say something like, "went to buy food", but this one like today says "meal find alleyway six". I'm not supposed to know about the alleyways, since I'm not a scavenger, but my apartment has a little "club" where they have different jobs. It's like a mini village full of crazed people. If you're sane, you don't join.
So I went out to get myself an egg and oatmeal, my typical breakfast. Takes like an hour to cook outside, even with this darn heat. We don't have nice stoves like some of the other apartments downtown, but we make good use of our heat we have up here. We live on the higher ground. Really stinks up here, though.
After my breakfast was done cooking I sat down on the dirty rug to eat. Cilo came in and started begging for food, wagging his little tail. I dropped some oatmeal on the floor purposefully, also typical.
It was a nice typical morning. And then I heard the rumbling.