The sound of a high-pitched caw drilled into my skull, blaring at a volume far too loud no matter the occasion, but especially in the morning. I awoke with tired reluctance and a frigid chill that seemed to have seeped into my very bones; forcing me to hide further in my poor excuse of blanket in a desperate attempt for warmth. I looked towards the offending noise, my gaze passing over the dull green paint that was peeling away from my mould-covered walls and looked through my frosted window, spotting the subject of my anger through the many cracks in the glass that attempted to distort my vision.

I glared towards the crow with undisguised contempt, a look the crow seemed to revel in as it continued to sit on the perch of my windowsill. Keeping its black beady eyes focused on me as it cawed incessantly. In my sleep-deprived anger, I quickly lurched forward from my bed and attempted to close my window properly. Despite knowing the futility of such an action. Alas, as expected my efforts were rewarded with nought but an extra crack spanning the frame of the window from my heavy-handed approach, promising a colder morning for me tomorrow. As well as what I was sure was a look of arrogance and disdain that looked far too human from the crow.

Knowing any hope for more sleep had been lost, I stood with tired resignation and headed towards the bathroom to get ready for the long day ahead. Not giving the crow the satisfaction of a further glance as I left my room. Upon entering the bathroom and stripping the many layers I had worn to sleep in a vain attempt to escape the cold, I stepped into the claustrophobic shower hidden in the corner, lined from head to toe in a sickening black mould, a common sighting throughout my home. Quickly I turned the handle, hearing the shower roar to life with a mixture of rumbles and jolts as I impatiently waited for the scalding heat to revitalise me back to life.

Once it finally came to a start a blissful sigh escaped me as the heat cascaded over me and instantly washed away the annoyance I had felt from that irritating crow. I gave myself a few moments to relax before I began washing myself quickly, knowing we couldn't afford to waste any of the searing liquid gold that splashed against me. Far too soon I turned the shower off with formidable difficulty, grabbing my towel from the side and fastening it around my waist before rushing back to my room to cover myself beneath layers upon layers of clothes to fight against the resurfacing cold.

I opened my closet to the paltry selection of clothes before me, each possessing its own numerous battle scars and cuts. I grabbed a few at random, not particularly caring which ones I wore before I threw them on in rapid succession. noticing how they fitted me as well as they did when I first got them many years ago. Reminding me of how little I've grown in all that time, standing at a mere five foot five which when paired with my skeletal figure made me appear more than three years younger. A fact I was more than self-conscious of.

Ridding myself of such thoughts I looked at the clock that sat on my bedside cabinet, shocked at how quickly the hands appeared to be moving, and quickly rushed into the kitchen not twenty steps from my room. I searched the barren cupboards for an ounce of food with a fervour, despite already knowing the results. The kitchen was small, matching both the rest of the house as well as the amount of food we seemed to possess. Its walls were a dreary white, accompanied by an assortment of stains and burns from when it was once used to actually cook food, instead of merely storing it. Yet the smell of smoke still hung heavily in the air and seemed to cling to every crooked cupboard or rusted electronic.

I closed the final cupboard in resignation, discarding any thoughts of breakfast and already planning on what I would need to buy after school. It was then I felt a pounding in my head, similar to when I had first woken up. Something I attributed to the gnawing hunger I currently felt. A hunger that was accompanied by a persistent chill that continued to cling to me and that I resolutely ignored.

Just as I was about to exit the kitchen, I noticed a folded-up note resting atop the brittle oak table in the centre of the room, almost hidden underneath the porcelain ashtray placed above; Still holding a smouldering bud in its centre. I opened it up with tired disinterest, already having an idea about what it would say. As expected, it was simply a note from my dad, telling me to buy some groceries after school.

I quickly went to retrieve the money needed for such an activity, kneeling on the floor as I placed my arm behind the ice-cold radiator on the far side of the kitchen, swinging it widely like the appendage of a metronome. After only a moment my hand bumped into a solid wood object no bigger than my hand which I firmly grasped before pulling out a dark wooden box into view.

As I opened the unadorned box and looked inside I saw the pathetic sight of my family's savings, amounting to no more than three or four grocery shops if we were lucky. After I had grabbed some cash and placed the box back in its hiding spot I looked at the nearby oven clock to see it was time to head out for school. Which I promptly did after grabbing my old phone and placing it, along with the money, in my black backpack I had left in my room.

As I stepped out of the crumbling assembly of brick and wood I called home, I was assaulted by the stench of chemicals and fumes that surrounded the neighbourhood. All coming from the assortment of factories that lay no more than a small walk away. A raspy cough quickly let itself known, burning the back of my throat in a familiar and far too well-known pain that forced me to stop and wait for it to pass. Something that had been happening with more and more frequency as of late.

Once it finally passed I slowly walked on, doing my best to regain my breath and ignore the headache that was slowly building, no doubt due to the acrid fumes entering my body. To distract myself I watched the floor with an eagle eye focus, doing my best to avoid the collection of needles and rubbish that covered the floor and could so easily puncture through the ratty material of my trainers.

During the walk, like every other day, I looked around. At the broken windows of the houses that ran alongside me. The way the houses squeezed tightly against one another without any room to breathe or move. At the people who passed by, people I had seen and known for most of my life but yet still gazed upon me with a hint of wariness. An expression I mirrored as they hurried past, A tenseness in their posture that only seemed to disappear after a gap had formed between us. The way the pavement seemed to be constantly covered in a thin film of filth that stuck to my trainers with each step. Accompanying my walk with a constant squelching noise that would have disgusted the average person but something I barely noticed.

However, the further I walked changes started to take place around me. The filth of the sidewalk slowly disappeared, showcasing a smooth asphalt surface underneath. The houses grew in size and space with each step, each one paired with gardens of increasing vanity and opulence. The poisoned air started to carry only the scent of fresh morning grass, only marred by the retching smell that still stubbornly clung to me. The only thing that stayed the same was the look of suspicion that the people passing by possessed. Though now they were accompanied by looks of scorn and disgust as they carried on walking, covered head to toe in their warm designer clothing.

I felt the seed of jealousy and anger I had been harbouring for many years struggle to break free as I bit my tongue and pressed my lips tightly together, wanting so badly to scream in rage at every one of those pompous pricks that looked down upon me as they passed. Thankfully, Before I did anything I would regret, I heard a voice I knew as well as my own shout my name from up ahead in greeting.

"Adam," Sam said with a wave as a lopsided smile hung off his face, his over six-foot tall body leaning casually against the sturdy brick wall surrounding his house. Well, in truth it was more like a mansion going of its size and lavishness, seeming to even put every other house in its surroundings to shame.

Sam was my best friend, something which surprised almost everybody due to how different our lives seemed. We had met as children at the same nursery, what with there only being one near the both of us, and ever we had been inseparable. As I observed Sam and his frankly intimidating physique It still shocked me to think about how small and meek he used to be. It was amazing what puberty could do.

'Alongside not having to starve yourself due to a lack of food of course.' I thought with concealed bitterness as I replied to Sam in greeting. "Hey man, what did you do last night?" 

"Same old, same old. Studying, studying and even more studying. I swear at this point I might just flunk out of school on purpose. That would teach mother and father a lesson". He said with a slight sigh, joining in step with me to school the moment I reached him.

I simply nodded my head in understanding, giving him a slight look of pity. As even though there were many things I was jealous of Sam for, his parents weren't one of them. Both Mr and Mrs Rainwright were a mixture of supreme arrogance and harshness wrapped up into two tight packages. Both of them were highly acclaimed doctors and posher than the bloody queen of England, the standards they expected were nothing short of monstrous, to say the least. Sam was forced to spend the majority of his time after school studying despite the fact he was already one of the smartest kids in school. As well as practising one of those posh-sounding instruments I could never remember the name. Cello, maybe?

We continued chatting casually as we walked, talking about what subjects we had today or any fresh drama we may have overheard to add to the already colossal mountain of existing rumours and drama. I mean the fact that Lucas was supposedly messaging Megan was somehow noteworthy was something I would never understand.

The moment we got to school I looked around, squinting my eyes in the process, trying in vain to block the blinding light shining off the freshly woken sun that was peaking just above the horizon. Immediately, I noticed a lack of people currently mingling outside the front doors of the school and realised, with slight annoyance, that we must have arrived far earlier than I had expected.

"Do you want to just walk around indoors for a bit while we wait for the first period?" Sam asked, no doubt having also noticed we had arrived far too early.

"Sounds like a plan, anything to get out of this cold; I feel like a fucking ice sculpture in this weather," I complained just as a lone breeze made itself known, passing through and rattling deep into my bones.

Sam responded with a hearty laugh "It's not that cold you baby, I'm actually quite toasty all things considered. You probably should have put on a proper coat and not that hoodie you always wear."

I flashed a strained smile as I politely laughed back, biting my tongue to once again not say anything I would later regret. I knew Sam didn't mean anything by his comment, and in truth, there was nothing necessarily wrong with what he said. But it didn't stop the ball of bitterness inside me from growing at seeing how warm he looked in his black designer parka. Reminding me just how different our lives truly were. Sam never had to worry about clothing or food. Thoughts that left me constantly filled with anxiety and stress.

I shook my head, discarding my negative thoughts just as we entered the school and the sight of a long corridor entered my sight.