✯This story is rated 11+ due to abuse and alcoholic beverages. If you don't mind reading about such subjects, then feel free to proceed, however I know that some do not enjoy reading about these subjects for particular reasons. ✯
✯All of the characters in this story as well as the storyline belong to me✯
✯All of the songs in this story obviously don't belong to me.✯
✯I highly recommend you listen to the songs mentioned! Country music needs more love!✯
~Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue ridge mountain, Shenandoah river
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads
All my memories, they gather round her (If I should stay)
A miner's lady, stranger to blue water (I would only be in your way)
So I'll go, yet I know (dark and dusty, painted on the sky)
I'll think of you every step of the way (misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye)
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads
On the road again
Like a band of gypsies, we go down the highway
We're the best of friends
Insisting that the world keep turning our way
And our way
Country roads (country roads), take me home (take me home)
I guess it was only natural for me to be so miserable. It's been three years since my dad left, and I still refuse to believe he's gone. Tyler tells me that I need to man up, but it's not like I'm being a Lukas or a Red. I don't act with sheer sadness or anger. I'm just quieter than what I was before. Tyler doesn't seem to understand that no matter how much I want to move on, I can't. I hold on to what my life was. He goes on and on about how we were doing to start a band, but that feels like some childhood game. And I can't even sing. Neither of us can. We just sing along with the radio and badly play drums and guitar. I personally hate the guitar. I can't use one of those little plastic things for the life of me, and it always hurts my fingers after a few strums. Tyler's pretty neat at the drums though. But we both know we aren't the next Florida Georgia Line, which is why we're both doing cruddy office jobs and drinking out-of-date cola. Tyler thinks that I should sell my dad's truck and buy a smaller car, and then put the spare funds towards a caravan so I can move out of my mum's house, but I'd rather live there than in a holiday mobile. And I am not fond of the idea of becoming one of those people who is generally avoided by the public because they look like they haven't been a mile near civilisation for ten years. Besides, I have more important things on my mind, like finding a way to steal Lex from Jackson. What? I can't help but be jealous that my childhood friend is now hanging out a little too close to my mortal enemy. Sometimes I seriously wish I could find something to bash his head in with.
He said "Son, it's gonna hurt me more than it hurts you"
But somehow I couldn't help but have my doubt
'Cause I'd seen my older brothers crawl back in the house
Each time they called the old man out
-The night I called the old man out✯Garth Brooks
I cant take another day of it. Another minute. A second, even. I am finally going to run. I've been planning this for about a year. My brothers were going to help me, 'till they both managed to escape off to their own and left me alone and defenceless. He's as drunk as a skunk, and if you go anywhere near him he'll think you're some grizzly bear trying to assassinate him. It wasn't so bad when mom was alive, but I had to watch her die in a horrible seizure, right in front of me. She'd only just had my younger sister. I tried to take care of Clover, but I watched her die of starvation. And my father did nothing. He'd beat me and force me to work when I was far too young. I was a slave. Still am. Not for any longer though. I haul myself to my room and grab my backpack, where I've packed everything of importance. Only my laptop, and an old teddy bear my grandparents gave to me when I was born. Jackson came and took my clothes off my hands, so I'll head to his house first. I'll stay a couple of days, and then go to Monty's B&B. There's just enough money in my dad's wallet to pay for a month there, it is incredibly cheap and he's loaded. If only I knew his pin, then I'd make off with that as well. I can normally forgive people. But not him. He destroyed my childhood and turned me into a servant. I wish I could borrow Jackson's gun and shoot the man right in the head for what he did to me. And to my sister. I creep downstairs. He's watching some garbage on the box, and growling something about whiskey. His wallet lies open on the table. Last time I looked, there was eleven fifty dollar bills just lying there. A good thief would leave some, so he wouldn't notice, but I need all of that money. And then I think, why not? I grab the entire wallet, shove it into my bag, and bolt out the door. I know he's jolted up, and has seen his missing money. I don't stop to think. I don't want him to catch me. If he does, I'll be dead. I wince as I think about what he'd do if he managed to find me. Jackson's is a mile away, and I can just about make that without tiring. I've had to get incredibly fit over the last eight months, which is hard to do when mostly confined to a house. I had to climb out my window late at night to practice running. And now I have to hope I practiced enough. I'm a third of the way there, according to my phone. And that's when I feel one of my legs collapse underneath me.
✯IMPORTANT NOTE✯
ReplyDelete✯This story is rated 11+ due to abuse and alcoholic beverages. If you don't mind reading about such subjects, then feel free to proceed, however I know that some do not enjoy reading about these subjects for particular reasons. ✯
✯All of the characters in this story as well as the storyline belong to me✯
✯All of the songs in this story obviously don't belong to me.✯
✯I highly recommend you listen to the songs mentioned! Country music needs more love!✯
~Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue ridge mountain, Shenandoah river
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads
All my memories, they gather round her (If I should stay)
A miner's lady, stranger to blue water (I would only be in your way)
So I'll go, yet I know (dark and dusty, painted on the sky)
I'll think of you every step of the way (misty taste of moonshine, teardrop in my eye)
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Take me home, country roads
On the road again
Like a band of gypsies, we go down the highway
We're the best of friends
Insisting that the world keep turning our way
And our way
Country roads (country roads), take me home (take me home)
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain mama
Oh, take me home, country roads~
-Forever Country✯CMA Awards 2016
-✯-
Chapter one
ReplyDeleteBrady
Its just an old beat up truck
Some say that I should trade up
Now that I got some jangle in my pocket
But what they don’t understand
Is it's the miles that make a man
I wouldn’t trade that thing in for a rocket
What they don’t know is my dad and me
We drove her out to Tennessee
And she’s still here and now he’s gone
So I hold on
-I hold on✯Dierks Bentley
I guess it was only natural for me to be so miserable. It's been three years since my dad left, and I still refuse to believe he's gone. Tyler tells me that I need to man up, but it's not like I'm being a Lukas or a Red. I don't act with sheer sadness or anger. I'm just quieter than what I was before. Tyler doesn't seem to understand that no matter how much I want to move on, I can't. I hold on to what my life was. He goes on and on about how we were doing to start a band, but that feels like some childhood game. And I can't even sing. Neither of us can. We just sing along with the radio and badly play drums and guitar. I personally hate the guitar. I can't use one of those little plastic things for the life of me, and it always hurts my fingers after a few strums. Tyler's pretty neat at the drums though. But we both know we aren't the next Florida Georgia Line, which is why we're both doing cruddy office jobs and drinking out-of-date cola. Tyler thinks that I should sell my dad's truck and buy a smaller car, and then put the spare funds towards a caravan so I can move out of my mum's house, but I'd rather live there than in a holiday mobile. And I am not fond of the idea of becoming one of those people who is generally avoided by the public because they look like they haven't been a mile near civilisation for ten years. Besides, I have more important things on my mind, like finding a way to steal Lex from Jackson. What? I can't help but be jealous that my childhood friend is now hanging out a little too close to my mortal enemy. Sometimes I seriously wish I could find something to bash his head in with.
Lukas
ReplyDeleteThe dining room fell silent
I can't believe what I just said
I just told my dad he's full of it
And I watched his face turn red
And I should've said "I'm sorry"
But I matched him shout for shout
I can still hear that screen door slammin'
The night I called him out
He said "Son, it's gonna hurt me more than it hurts you"
But somehow I couldn't help but have my doubt
'Cause I'd seen my older brothers crawl back in the house
Each time they called the old man out
-The night I called the old man out✯Garth Brooks
I cant take another day of it. Another minute. A second, even. I am finally going to run. I've been planning this for about a year. My brothers were going to help me, 'till they both managed to escape off to their own and left me alone and defenceless. He's as drunk as a skunk, and if you go anywhere near him he'll think you're some grizzly bear trying to assassinate him. It wasn't so bad when mom was alive, but I had to watch her die in a horrible seizure, right in front of me. She'd only just had my younger sister. I tried to take care of Clover, but I watched her die of starvation. And my father did nothing. He'd beat me and force me to work when I was far too young. I was a slave. Still am. Not for any longer though. I haul myself to my room and grab my backpack, where I've packed everything of importance. Only my laptop, and an old teddy bear my grandparents gave to me when I was born. Jackson came and took my clothes off my hands, so I'll head to his house first. I'll stay a couple of days, and then go to Monty's B&B. There's just enough money in my dad's wallet to pay for a month there, it is incredibly cheap and he's loaded. If only I knew his pin, then I'd make off with that as well. I can normally forgive people. But not him. He destroyed my childhood and turned me into a servant. I wish I could borrow Jackson's gun and shoot the man right in the head for what he did to me. And to my sister. I creep downstairs. He's watching some garbage on the box, and growling something about whiskey. His wallet lies open on the table. Last time I looked, there was eleven fifty dollar bills just lying there. A good thief would leave some, so he wouldn't notice, but I need all of that money. And then I think, why not? I grab the entire wallet, shove it into my bag, and bolt out the door. I know he's jolted up, and has seen his missing money. I don't stop to think. I don't want him to catch me. If he does, I'll be dead. I wince as I think about what he'd do if he managed to find me. Jackson's is a mile away, and I can just about make that without tiring. I've had to get incredibly fit over the last eight months, which is hard to do when mostly confined to a house. I had to climb out my window late at night to practice running. And now I have to hope I practiced enough. I'm a third of the way there, according to my phone. And that's when I feel one of my legs collapse underneath me.