I am a huge fan of twdg, and I read fanfictions. I just wanted to make my own.
English ain't my native language so... probably major grammatical errors ahead. Try to enjoy the book. Not my problem if you don't. You're 10 years old.
You wake up, totally exhausted. You didn't slept well, as usual. You get on your feet, ready for another day, if you don't collapse from pain soon. You make your way to the bathroom, and quickly wash your face while taking a look in the mirror.
Your eye is still swollen, just a little less, your nose is still busted and painful, and your haw still hurts and cracks when you open it. You cover the bruises by a few of "special beating" make-up, dressed yourself with black pants, a red hood and some old sunglasses, to cover your eye. You find the courage to lift your shirt, showing the painful marks of the belt, amongst some old ones. They never totally disappear, even with a long time. You sighed, before exiting the bathroom.
You limped your way to the stairs and started to slowly make your way down. Your father is eating some kind of cake, and he doesn't look that drunk, fortunately.
- You're awake ? Good... It would have sucked if Ihad to wake you up, right ?
- Yes sir. Sorry I'm late sir.
- See ? You became a lot more respectful since yesterday. One day, you'll thank me for all the values I learned you. The first one : Always respect your promises. You promised me you would find 10 dollars ? Find these goddamn 10 dollars !
- I will sir. I planned on working for the neighbors.
- Working for the neighbors huh ? As long as you deserve your payement, I'm okay with that. Every man has to work, or he can't be called a man.
- I agree with that, sir.
- Of course you do ! Now get your skinny ass the hell outta here, now !
You get outside, thinking of all the possibilities to earn ten dollars. You could mow some lawn, help to put the trash away... Now, where to ask ? Pratically each one of your neighbors didn't liked you. Then, you thought about that family who moved here about a year ago, and you didn't know them. They probably didn't know you too, so you started to head to their house.
After a couple of minutes, you were in front of their house, number 5240. You knock at the door, and after a couple of seconds, a tall and massive black guy unlocks the door.
- Huh... Hello Mr...
- Marsch. Ed Marsch.
- Well Mr Marsch, sorry to bother you, but I need 10 dollars, and I wondered if I could... help you? If you need my help for anything, of course.
The man smiles at you, in a very communicative way :
- That's... actually, I could use a hand. I want to build a treehouse for my daughter, and she's gonna be back tomorrow from her trip to Savannah with her mother. You think you can handle that ?
- I think so.
- Fine. You can come in, I'll grab my tools and we'll start.
You come into the house, and felt kind of... awkward. The interior was clean, unlike your house, and well decorated. You felt a vague of melancolia invading you, as you saw a picture of his family, and how happy and normal they looked :
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