Chapter 01

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Waking up each morning had begun to feel like a punishment. The alarm clock rang incessantly loud, and Giggles always woke up with a fright. 5:30. Giggles groaned. Her hand was still sore from yesterday; it had gotten caught in the meat grinder at the Café; flesh, nails, and bone all crushed into sickly, red slop. Today – her hand was back to normal. She opened and closed her fingers slowly, watched them through half-asleep eyes. The tendons moved as they should have, the skin stretched and pulled in the way it was supposed to. She was mesmerized, even after two years, at how expertly the Tree recrafted her body. Yet, it was still much too recurrent, much too early, and her bed much too comfortable, to give into the alarm clock's whims.

But staying in bed wasn't an option. Preparing breakfast, going to work, seeing friends, enjoying hobbies; it was all crucial. Normalcy was crucial. Without the familiar, comfortable monotony, the Tree and its effects would consume you. Giggles approached each day with a willing, hopeful smile; yesterday's horrors were in the past. The sun was shining, and the birds were chirping, and as long as there was optimism and hope, everything would be okay.

Just outside, Toothy was riding his bike toward her house; there was a bag full of newspapers hanging off his shoulder. It was true that hardly anyone read the papers anymore, why would they? Death here, death there. Nothing new. But, delivering them didn't require much skill. Other than pedaling quick and throwing hard – there wasn't much to it. Perfect for someone like Toothy, now that the Tree had reverted his mind back to that of a child's. Physically he was still in his mid-twenties; same as Giggles and all his other college friends. But mentally, he was twelve again. That was his curse. However, adult bills and responsibilities were still due. And so, that's what he did. Each morning he was outside of her house, at 6:30am sharp, to begin his paper route. Giggles waved to him from her front porch.

Next to Toothy, doing flips and tricks on his skateboard, was Toothy's best friend. His cropped, blonde hair bounced with each twirl of the skateboard, and his green eyes lit up with each successful land. He was showing off for Giggles, and she loved him for it. His features were soft, warm and inviting, and he always made her laugh. She'd never found him this funny before, this amusing; not during college, not ever. But she saw him differently now.

"Good morning, guys!" Giggles called, walking down her lawn to meet them. Toothy reached her first, Cuddles was too busy trying out a new spin. He failed, stumbled forward off his board, then tried the spin again. This time, it landed.

Toothy tossed her the morning paper from the street, "G'morning Giggles," he sang, then sped off on his bike toward the next house. "Race you!" Toothy shouted back toward Cuddles, and then he was gone – snickering and cheering at his head start. Giggles watched him go, lamenting for a second how he used to be before the Tree. He had always been friendly, but reserved; always willing to join conversations when prompted, but never initiating them on his own. He was the type of person you could have full, hour long talks with, before realizing you knew nothing personal about them. He and Giggles were close in college, but not anymore. It was through him that she met Cuddles all those years ago.

"You're on!" Cuddles replied, skidding to a stop in front of Giggles first. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her in close to his chest, and placed a kiss on her cheek. Cuddles was panting as he spoke, and sweat dribbled down his forehead.

"Did you see that, love?" He asked. "I finally landed it."

Giggles nodded happily and kissed his jaw in return. She took the bottom of his shirt and lifted it, exposing his lower abdomen. She did this on purpose, enjoying his warm skin as it grazed her knuckles. Cuddles was slender, but she could pick out a hint of abs just above his belly button. She lifted his shirt higher, revealing more of his stomach, and used it to wipe the sweat off of his brow.

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