Sleeping with the Stars

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One of which was the Roundtree Syndicate--the most infamous organized criminal gang in all of Bane.

But Khrissa didn't live in fear of any of them. Fortunately, she and her family lived in one of the safest corners of Bane, where crime levels were the lowest. Sure, there may have been a few run-ins with escapees and gamblers before, but in the long run, they were probably the safest family in Bane, and that was saying a lot for that time.

Her father and mother talked about work, as usual. Her mother was a maid at some low-end restaurant called "Samson's Breakfast Diner" just down the street, but her father's job wasn't nearly as pleasant--he was a garbage collector, who worked three days a week (hence why Khrissa often visited the junkyard after a day with her tutor, Sarra). Her parents were talking about something like a downpayment on a new house or something...Khrissa didn't really know, as she was too young to understand, but she liked the idea of a new house. She imagined herself in her own bedroom, with a real bed, her own little space for her books and drawings.

Other than that, she was bored and exhausted. The pizza was great--her mother could make anything taste like it was from a five-star restaurant--but her appetite was limited. She found that she had taken a liking to fasting since she didn't have to worry about stomach cramps when running and training, and because of this, she often wouldn't finish dinner. Her mother wasn't the least bit offended, though. It just meant leftovers for tomorrow, which made cooking dinner the next day easier.

"I'm gonna sleep now," Khrissa yawned, placing her pizza on the countertop before exiting out the back door. "G'night, ma. G'night, dad."

"Night, sweetheart," the father waved.

Khrissa liked to sleep in the shed and often would, especially on warm, muggy summer nights. Because her house had no rooms except for the kitchen-living room combo, it was like the bedroom she never had. It was separated from the house--about 15 feet away--with a pink sleeping bag lying in the corner, the colour faded from the dirt and time on the floor. Stacks of old comic books, vintage magazines, and documentary DVDs were hastily piled against the cramped walls of the dimly-lit room, towering over the small sleeping bag.

The child wriggled between her bag, snuggling with her flattened pillows and tugging them close to her waist as she crawled cozily between the sheets. She could feel her heavy eyelids drooping over her vision, coaxing her to fall into a deep sleep, which eventually, she did, allowing her eyes to shut and her subconscious to produces bright, bizarre images she would later see as dreams.

Deeper...darker...the dreams had never finished processing. Darkness swallowed her vision, and then, there was nothing. The poor wretch was rolling and twisting around in the summer night heat, a small puddle of sweat was pooling just underneath her neck. She tried to sleep, but it felt so uncomfortable outside. When it was supposed to be a cold, dry, silent night, it was humid, warm, and the obnoxious chirping of the crickets was faster and louder than ever.

Khrissa sighed in disappointment. She had wanted to get a good night's rest, but she deemed it wasn't meant to be. The summer nights didn't like her any more than she liked them. So, out of her own boredom, she launched herself up from the sleeping bag, stretching her arms all the way into the sky and arching her back to the point where it looked like she was about to snap in two. Despite not feeling the least bit tired, the back of her throat felt the urge to take a large, long yawn, but she ignored it and instead walked to the door of the shed and pried it open.

Slowly, quietly, meekly, she tiptoed her way to the back of the house, her bare feet crunched and cracked dead branches as she walked, the tall, sharp blades of grass pricking the sides of her soft legs as she walked through them. Then, her sensitive hearing caught wind of a rattle and a clatter leaking from the cracks of the house. Just as her mother had taught her, she stayed cautious and alert, pressing her back by the side of the door and listening in carefully before she dared to open it. Then, she heard something that worsened her fear, causing her walnut-sized heart to beat rapidly within her fragile chest. Her mother's screaming was being muffled by something being pressed against her face, her father's voice was nowhere to be heard.