The Shearing

Two

As I make my way across the scruffy alleys of Creed Holme, trails of pale grey clouds stalk my path, and, despite being alone, I couldn't shrug off the stabbing feeling of countless eyes. It's as though the authorities are already monitoring me from above, and it's sending chills down to my spine.

The usual day of work turns up with tension as I anticipate the arrival of the announcement regarding the updated list of top family names hunted down. The sultry air ruffles my honey locks as I approach the grocery store. It is a dome-like grey building as pale as the sky, and it's wedged between two towering duplex houses that are equally as dull.

Within the grocery however, it is teeming with life.

"Nearly thirty minutes late? Keep up the good work, Byrne," Luke, an employee working alongside me, jeers as I stride past him.

"You won't be disappointed." I return the sarcasm.

The employee's locker room is usually devoid of life as I use to come at work earlier than the others, but now however, it's their turn to stare at me stupidly as if mentally yelling how much of a bitch I am. I ignore them nonetheless.

Fumbling for the right combination, I settle my pack within my locker. The pictures of me, Oliver, and Oakley are clipped behind the locker door, and our elated smiles beam at me. I smile back. It's one of the  few remaining motivations I have for work—my family. Yes, I consider Oliver as my family now as well. He's five years ahead of me, making him seem like an older brother, looking after the brat that I am while Oakley's gone to work overseas.

As I close the locker door and scurry out of the locker room, I nearly stumble with our manager as he suddenly pops in front of me, blocking my path. I look up to him impassively, masking my nearly startled expression. His reprimanding eyes search my face, and his unruly hair looks as if he just woke up.

"You know you could've been one of the candidate employees for promotion if you'd only been working hard these past few weeks," Dalton, our manager, says as he crosses his arms on his chest.

I could roll my eyes if he isn't looking.

"Got no regrets, sir," I flippantly mutter.

"Unfortunately, you may possibly make it to the list of those for dismissal," he adds.

"What's this? School stuff? Should I expect detention later before I go home? Or a three-day suspension after?" I say. If looks could kill, I'd be dead by now.

"I'm serious here, Holland," he sternly says.

"Alright fine, I'll work some extra hours this weekend, hope this makes you happy now," I mutter, and boss grumpy himself seems satisfied with my words.

"Good, I'll be arranging some few minor changes on your schedule this Saturday, since one of the employees had to walk the plank."

"Piteous kit," I lazily say.

"I see potential in you, Holland. You're one of the best I've got here, so please snap out of whatever's been keeping you up lately." This time, he's really serious.

"Yes, boss," I add as I head off.

"I'll be excusing you some time later, okay?" Dalton calls out, but this time I'm not able to respond back at him.