City of the Dead

Chapter 2

I am greeted by warm, bright rays of sunlight as I slowly wake. The birds sing their first melodies of the morning and the voices and footsteps of happy villagers in the market fill the air. That's strange. Usually, I am greeted by the smell of eggs, Mother calling me down for breakfast, and Father's heavy footsteps as he races to the kitchen for the first piece of bacon.

I stumble out of bed releasing a loud and noisy yawn. I don't think much of my parents' silence, I actually welcome it. It's better than hearing them argue. Maybe they are still in bed. They do occasionally sleep in, especially after late nights like yesterday. I decide to head to their room to see if they are there. I press my ear against the door before walking in. I don't hear any snoring or much of anything else, but I enter anyway.

"Rise and shine." I say bursting in. "Unless you are content with me setting the house on fire again, I suggest you get started on making my breakfast." I am surprised when there is no one there to angrily sigh and groan for ruining their peaceful sleep.

It doesn't even look like they slept here at all. Normally the bed would be a tangled mess of covers and twisted bedsheets, or at least it would be until noon when Mom came back upstairs to fix the room. But the bed is made, neat, without even a wrinkle. I guess they must be downstairs then.

I quickly wash and get dressed. I try to hurry remembering Dad's lack of control when it comes to a good meal. Take too long and he'll gobble up everything up before you could reach the bottom of the stairs. I don't bother to tame my long black mane and rush downstairs hoping that there is a scrap of food left for me.

Imagine my disappointment when I find no one there. Imagine my greater disappointment when I don't find any food either. I was wondering why I couldn't smell any food while I was getting ready. Normally the entire house is filled with the smell of Mom's cooking. I can taste it now. Warm eggs and bacon with cold milk. Well, any chances of me getting that meal are gone.

"Where are they?" I ask myself.

Mom and Dad must have left early but it's peculiar that they didn't leave a note or tell me that they were leaving in the first place. A goodbye would have been nice too. I search around the house for a note just in case I missed one. No, no note. I wonder why they left without a word? They must have rushed out and forgotten, it's very possible. No doubt Father has already left for work, and Mom is always visiting her friends. They should be fine.

It looks like I'll be eating breakfast alone today.

I am just as well-known as my mother when it comes to cooking. They say when I cook, people can smell smoke halfway across Aston. I make a few pieces of bacon that aren't as singed as last time and grab a bit of fruit to go along with it. I don't take too much of the fruit for breakfast. I have to save it until I can buy some more. The traders won't arrive for at least a week with their fresh and exotic goods that come from who knows where. I have plenty of questions that I plan to ask them when they come. What places have you been to? What are those places like? What are the people like? Is it warm like here in Aston or is it cold? Is it possible for me to go with you? Maybe I will save that last question for another day.

I finish my delicious breakfast and stroll into the living room. Mom and Dad won't be home for a long while, so I guess I'll get some things done while they're gone.

I spend the next few hours washing the dishes, sweeping and mopping the floors, and straightening my room that looks like a tornado blew through it. After I finish washing the windows I decide to sit and read a calming book or two, or maybe three. It's hard not to get sucked into another world hidden in so many pages. While in the middle of reading my third book I start to feel a bit tired. The words that once held my interest begin to blur and before I know it, I'm drifting off into a deep sleep.