Chapter 7- Sven

a chapter of "The Shadow" narrated by Sven Welsley.

I noticed a ray of golden light peaking in through the seal of the drapes. The bedroom door, which was hanging open, allowed me to notice Adrian’s absence. Happiness for him jolted me like a bolt of lightning. I dressed quick and headed down stairs for breakfast and the start of a new day. Passing the main door on my way to the kitchen, I found for myself both mother and Adrian’s shoes missing. Mother, probably headed to work and Adrian is with the rebellion now. Loneliness, an anchor, pounded upon my heart. But when it cracked open, compassion, a gas, leaked out of it. I was in a dark room with nothing to joy over but joy itself. The joy of my only living family members able to live their life in freedom.

 

The bear from last night sat on the kitchen table. More have been picked from it. And I heard a growl churn from inside me. I ate the remains of the meal. The taste of it differed from last night. Over the night it must have cooled and hardened. The meat was a clump of rock that managed to roll itself into my stomach which took in out of starvation. A note was written from mother to me, wishing me luck, and telling me what to do. On the back of it was a small list of chores. Finally, they didn’t think of me as a kid. A random, helpless kid that appeared as a disruption in their lives. I was proud of that.

I ate quick and began to do the chores mother left. They weren’t tough, and all that I’ve helped mother with before. The laundry took a while since I couldn’t get the washer started. I never did figure out how to work it, so I hand washed them. It took like forever and my back killed afterwards. I didn’t mind the pain though. I was just happy to have some responsibility in the house. After all, I was capable of doing the laundry. Even the hard way. And that made me especially glad for I knew Adrian couldn’t even do it. He’s always been more outdoorsy.

 

Exhaustion overwhelmed me. I found myself soon drifting asleep on the couch. I was reading. My eyelids drooped shut wearily. I managed to walk to my room and collapse on my bed. Or so I thought. Everything became a blur, even the pain in my back seemed to fade away. I was floating in a cloud of reverie. Mind blank, and dark, and tired, and asleep. And it was barely past noon. I was more tired today than I ever was. No complaints, however, I was liking the feel of it. The feel of accomplishment. The feel of growing up. The feel of responsibility.

 

Author's Note

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