Surviving at a Cost.

Chapter 1 Sirens

        I grew up in a small town just north of the capital Chester by the name of Ashcroft. It was a cozy little town; population couldn’t have been over 500 people, that includes the people who stayed for a little while then leave. There were mountains on all sides topped with the fluffy type of snow, with a crisp icy glaze on top while a river cut straight through the mountains and gushed into the small lake in the center of town. The town was a farm town, Ashcroft worked clockwork; when spring came we planted, summer we began to harvest until mid fall, finally into winter when we all just sit on our asses and relax until next spring.

        Our house was near the center of town by the police station, it wasn’t much, just a small ranch style built in the 1990’s about thirty years ago. The grey on the sides was a dingy white  and needed repainted a long time ago, the front porch was a cedar coated with a coffee brown staining. My father loved to sit on that deck during the spring and summer and drink his alcohol, he loved his booze and wasn’t exactly the nicest drunk by any means, he’d beat anyone he found after going to the Farmers Cocktail Bar. The week before shit went down he beat my brother to a bloody pulp after thinking he took his alcohol.

“Where is it?!” Pa would scream.

“I dunno!” My brother was yelling, my mom was in the kitchen while the whole thing happened, just sitting in there listening to the entire thing, she looked so innocent and tired.

“Ma! Do somethin!” I screamed, she still just sat there. She was as pale as a ghost and look like the life had been pushed out and replaced with air.

Finally my brother grabbed a nearby vase and smashed it over my dads head, just like that my mom snapped out of it and came rushing into the living room with a damp washcloth and picked my brother up and started cleaning his wounds inflicted by my dad.

        I have two brothers and one sister, my brother Bennett who always got into trouble, well by my dads standards. He would stay out late partying, always steal dad’s alcohol. He dropped out of highschool at the age of 16, he ran away for about a year but came back. He should’ve stayed away and he would've been fine. I ask him all the time.

“Why’d you come back?” he’d just sit there and this wide grin would grow on his face.

“I came back to get you three away from that prick.” He replied and we just sit there, watching the days go by.

        Bennett had short slick brown hair that ended right above his ears, and his face had a rather tan complexion, it fit with his amber colored eyes. He had a fewer scars than mom, that’s mostly because he wasn’t afraid to defend himself from our dad. He swings right back if he’s given the chance, but most of the time he is down on the ground before he could react, so he can’t swing. His biggest scar was right above his right eyebrow, it went diagonally across his eyebrow and stopped right above his eyelid.

        My other brother was about 5 younger than me, Kenneth was his name. He looked a lot like mom, his hair was a shade of blonde with a tint of copper mixed in. His eyes had this greyish tint to them going from darkest to lightest, they were almost white along his pupil. Dad never hit him, I thinks it was because he was too young at the time, he didn’t start hitting me and Bennett till we we 16 or so, which is probably a good thing too. I don’t think any of us could’ve handled that for much longer.

        Then there was Kylie who was a year younger than me, her hair was a lustrous midnight red. It fit perfectly with her medium toned complexion, as well as her amber hazel colored eyes. She spent most of her time with ma in the kitchen, cooking, doing laundry, and cleaning the dishes. Dad never seemed to lay a hand on her, well in the abusive way, but whenever he touched her shoulder she flinched. I suspected he had done something or was still doing stuff to her, no one flinches like that when someone touches them.