bitter water // dreamnotfound

four

in the morning, george's entire body ached.

During the night, he had finally managed to get home and immediately collapse onto his cheap bed. He had a few scrapes on his elbows and knees but nothing much. His body was just tired. He was grateful to have gotten out of that situation without any broken bones.

Even more important, he was grateful he was even alive. The event had shaken him up so much, he was fending off a panic attack the rest of his way home and kept waking up throughout the night. His mother was killed in the very exact way he was targeted, that's why he was so bothered by it.

She was walking home from the crop field at night, excited to tell her family about the huge harvest that they had been hoping for all year. They would finally have enough money to get them through the winter without issues. However, she never made it home. They only ever found out what happened days later. She had refused to give up any money she had on her.

Ever since then, George had been extremely antsy about walking at night. Most were anyways, but he especially was. He thought his fear was irrational and that maybe, just maybe, he could face it that night and tell himself about how silly he was when he ended up perfectly fine. He was never going to stay after work for as long as he did ever again. Every time he thought he could face something, it always, always, turned out the less than desirable way.

When George had fully woken up, he slowly got dressed in his scratchy attire and looked out of his slightly golden tinted window. He needed to go to the bakery and get food for the week, but he only had a third of the money he'd usually have. Guilt and sorrow filled him, but not anger. He didn't like being angry, so he forced himself to avoid that emotion. His father was angry a lot, he didn't want to be like him. Sure, he wouldn't be able to eat as much this week, but he didn't want to be angry about it. Just extra sad would do.

---

The door to the bakery had a small bell attached, signaling that somebody had entered. The little ding of the bell brought out a familiar face from another room of the building. His bright doe eyes lit up when they fell upon George.

"George! Good morning, how are you today?"

"Hey Fundy! I'm doing alright, I guess. I definitely could be better, but I can't really do anything about it... I'm just here to get some bread, nothing extra this time."

The only slightly taller boy cocked his head slightly, a bit confused as to why George was so down. He usually wasn't like this. He didn't want to pry, especially when he got the memo that George didn't want to talk about it. "I'm sorry to hear that. Just help yourself to what you need, I'll be in the back when you're ready to pay."

Floris, or Fundy, as George called him, was a longtime friend of his. They grew up together and he was also very close to the queen. She had allowed him to run his own bakery in the middle of the kingdom, bringing in customers from all over the town. They had watched each other grow up and even though they weren't as close as they were now compared to when they were children, they still very much enjoyed each other's company.

George looked at the coins in his hand. It was so discouraging.

All he was able to afford were a few loaves of bread. Sometimes he'd get a few extra things, like eggs or oats, or even bacon when he had extra money. However, here he was, only purchasing a few loaves of brown bread. All he could tell his self was, "It's only for this week. Only for the time being."

---

Fundy had always tried giving George extra for free, but he never accepted it. He wanted to do things for himself, he didn't want to be helped by others. Even if Fundy was just trying to be selfless and kind, George never took the offer. Now, when George needed help most, he still wouldn't accept anything more than what he was paying for, even if he knew he needed it.

"Please, George. You have so little money right now, let me just give you some cabbage or something? You're not going to be able to make it through the week-"

"Fundy, I promise, I'll be perfectly okay. One week with less food won't kill me. I'm fine."

"Sure it won't kill you, but it's not healthy and I can guarantee you don't like it..."

"Of course I don't like it, but that's just life. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep." His response was very half-hearted.

Fundy lightly frowned as two cats strutted out of the back room. They were supposed to be mousers, that's why he had them, but they never did their jobs. He still loved them, though. "Okay, I hope you get through the week easily. Don't ever hesitate to stop by if you need anything."

George smiled at the cats and thanked his friend. "I'll see you, then."

Floris waved a little, watching George leave with a heavy heart. He just wished he would accept help.