Porcelain

If Addison squinted the shadow splayed across the ceiling from her clock almost looked like a bear, and she tried to imagine it eating everyone that had ever wronged her. The digits read four-thirty and so far she had managed a total of forty-five minutes sleep despite feeling like a truck had run her over due to her exhaustion. She was actually beginning to grow scared that she was forming insomnia with all the stress catching up to her and spent several minutes every time the thought came up trying to focus on something else.

Somewhere amongst the hours of tossing and turning and short naps her headache had managed to ease, so at least she had that going for her she thought. Once the digits read four forty-five she eventually gave up staring into space and decided that she would see if a glass of water would give her a better chance of falling asleep. She knew that Tom was residing downstairs, but she was sure that unlike herself he would be sleeping like a log and there was no chance of disturbing him.

Dragging herself out of bed she padded along the hallway and down the stairs, blinking rapidly once she entered the kitchen and switched on the light. It took her several minutes to adjust and once she did she reached for the glass, running it under the tap. The window at the other end of the room showed inky darkness and the single beam of a nearby streetlight. Addison let out a sigh as she looked out of it and took steady mouthfuls of water, wishing sleepiness upon her. She was disturbed by the sound of movement from somewhere in the house and letting out a soft curse, placed the glass in the sink and made to leave the kitchen. She wasn’t fast enough however and Tom’s bleary face appeared in the doorway.

“You’re up early,” he commented, his voice rough from sleep and Addison shrugged her shoulders.

“Haven’t slept actually,” she said. Silence fell and she stood by the sink awkwardly as he looked at her, blinking slowly. He was still in his jeans, a t-shirt, and what appeared to be his favourite black sweater, but his face was slightly puffy and the segments of his hair that were long enough to curl were splayed about. As if realizing so he raised a hand and ran it through them, before dropping it down.

“Did you want to watch that sunrise?” he posed and the sudden offer caught her off guard. She was tempted to throw it back in his face like she wanted, and expected of herself, however she was feeling wide awake now and the thought of lying back in bed and staring about herself again felt almost claustrophobic.

“Um, I’ll just got change my clothes,” she said softly, admitting defeat and he looked pleasantly surprised at her answer. With a nod he stepped out of the doorway and allowed her access. As she climbed the stairs she wondered what on earth possessed her to agree when just a few days ago she probably would have thrown the glass at his head for the suggestion. Had she really become desperate enough to try his sunrise idea?

Slipping into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Addison grabbed a light sweater and a pair of flats and made her way back downstairs. By the time she reached the landing of the hallway Tom was already standing by the front door, looking much more alert. He shot her a small smile when she appeared, opening the door and ushering her to step through it. The cool early morning air hit her as she did so and she tugged on the sweater, glancing over her shoulder to see if Tom was following. As he pulled the door shut again she patted her pockets, ensuring that she had her keys and phone. Satisfied that she could get back inside she started off down the front path and out onto the sidewalk. She knew of a small rise about five minutes walk away that could provide them with a semi-decent view and so led the way, Tom falling in beside her.

She wasn’t sure what she should say, or if she should even speak at all. She certainly didn’t want to; with every step she took away from the house she began to wish more and more that she hadn’t agreed. He was walking beside her with his hands stuffed in his jean pockets and even that action caused her to clench her fists. Addison would have gladly swapped places with one of the many young women that would eat their own left arm for the chance; she was sure they would enjoy this walk far more than her.

Eventually they rounded a bend and began to ascend the street that rose up in front of them. At its peak there was a small park with a swing set, a slide, and a couple of other playground objects. It also happened to be lined by large logs that she figured they could sit on – hopefully at opposite ends. When they finally reached it she was panting a little from the exertion, glancing over to find that Tom looked like he had just taken a Sunday stroll. With a roll of her eyes she plonked herself down on the closest log, folding her arms across her chest and looking out over the rooftops of the surrounding suburb. She had to admit it wasn’t a terrible view, though it would have been better appreciated if Tom hadn’t taken a seat right next to her. Unfortunately she had to accept the fact that she had brought this on herself by agreeing to watch the damned sunrise, and hoped that it would happen soon.