AN: As much as I hate posting things that are under 1000 words… well, I’ll be posting the next chapter later today anyway, and this is the prologue in its entirety. I don’t usually post works in progress because of my tendency to add things as I go along, but this is my NaNoWriMo project, and I figured it might help me stay motivated. So. Anyway. Here it is.

"She didn't kill herself,” said Zachary.

A warm hand covered his shoulder. Zachary should have been glad of the heat; he was all-over cold these days, even though the weather was quite pleasant for one who was used to it. But most of him hated the man standing next to him, a man who was going to take away what little of his world he had left. “I know, Zach, I know,” said Cleon. Zachary should have been grateful- the man was the only person who had agreed with him and actually acted like he meant it.

The “Zach” grated, though. Zach was his mother's name for him. “It's Zachary,” the boy muttered, stepping out of reach.

***

Zachary propped his chin on his fist and looked out the window. He couldn't see Wales anymore; it had already disappeared beneath the clouds. Two days. He had had two days to grieve, and now everything was going to change again. You had four, really, Zachary told himself. You were just dumb enough to be asleep for the first two. It wasn't a very effective scold, though. The first day he was awake, Zachary had tried to remember what happened to his mother, and it was like a chasm opened in his mind. The world threatened to buck him off; his sanity rebelled away from the though to preserve itself.

"It's post-traumatic stress,” the doctor told him. “Your mind won't let you focus on it right now- it's too painful for you... seeing her jump must have been awful.” Doctors know best, his mother had always said, and a fresh wave of pain had made him hold his tongue.

Now, though, he scoffed at the idea. He wasn't afraid of the pain; everything brought it on these days. Whatever he had seen... he knew it wasn't normal nor right, and to think about it would drive him mad. Plain and simple.

***

Zachary resisted the urge to pace as he waited for his “uncle” to finish dragging his bags into the house. It was Zachary's instinct to offer help, but the man wasn't his uncle, so it didn't make a difference. “I'm from your dad's side of the family.” Pssh. His father was dead and didn't have any family. Whoever this man was, they weren't related. Zachary watched the little man struggle with his luggage and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

After a moment, he turned and walked up the stairs to his room. He felt like a jerk, but he just couldn't deal with Cleon right now.

***

The air inside his room was stifling. It was warm and musty and smelled of emptiness. Zachary tossed and turned for a few hours. He didn't really care if he fell asleep or not- he knew about the effects of jet lag, and he didn't start school for another few days- but he wanted to stop thinking, and, in the absence of video games or political commentary, sleep was the easiest way. After a while of counting the dots on the ceiling and trying not to cry, Zachary got up and opened the window. It was difficult; the lock was painted over, and the window screeched like a cat in heat when he finally got it loose.

On impulse Zachary leaned out of his window and looked around. Ah. There was a trellis beside his window- an easy way onto the roof. Pulling a blanket up behind him, Zachary carefully scaled the wall and shuffled up the roof until he found a comfortable spot. Much better. He clutched the blanket tightly around himself and stared at the sky. The stars were lovely after a whole day cooped up, and they soothed his tired mind. Worries about what he had seen on the beach that day and his uncle and his new school drifted away on the wind, and he sat up there until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.