August and His Giant Family.

Troubling Morning

Tip toeing melody danced down the hallway; walls raised over 30 feet high, and wooden floor reaching few miles. Pictures decorated the area, inviting eyes to see those who live here. A large frame hangs over a long table holding flower pots and standing wooden letter's reading: Family and Love.

The picture above shows two men, handsome and young. An ocean panted sky lays behind, and dancing specks among the beach sand.  The blond man taking holds the camera, letting the sun beam against his pale skin. The cameras takers other arm loosely wraps around a second tanner persons neck. The man wears a large hat and unbuttoned t-shirt. His curly hair obviously bowing with the wind. Together they huddled together; their mere faces radiate happiness and joy.

Below the picture and table, a tiny 8 year old boy gazed upon the portrait. He stood far back, his 3 to 4 inch size struggling seeing beyond the gigantic bench. He wears matching blue pajamas; added penguins accessorize the pant legs and sleeves.

The sniffling boy (stupid allergies) feels rather anxious. His heart beats rapidly, reaching close to imploding. August somewhat leaned beating away anxious and worrying thoughts. His monstrous dad would barge home whisky fueled and scold: "Throw those stresses into a box, bury it beneath the sand on I Don't Give A Shit Island?"

August routinely practices ignoring his psychological abuse past: breathing exercises, journaling, reading books, and talking.

Talking, August's archenemy. Spouting words, small chatting, and dreaded oral reports sends him panicking; the oral report part sincerely wrecks his mental stability today.

Two giants named Biff and Alex Olsen adopted him one month ago, and offered the greatest home imaginable; Biff teaches special education, and Alex does homeschooling. Since prone to panic attacks among school environment, the giants decided homeschooling was the greatest solution available. On the other hand, staying home doesn't result skipping social practice skills. Alex makes August present a verbal book report, such as today, and share ten things enjoyed during the week.

Alex and Biff make sure they let August experience real world interaction visiting malls and restaurants. Prior to leaving, their little boy hides and cries till forcefully taken. Embarrassing August knows, but he can't help himself. His adopters explain he has something called 'severe social anxiety' and 'ptsd'. August struggled understanding def-

"Listen Alex, think we're pushing him too hard?"." A man's voice said somewhere.

"Biff, Dr. Eliana clearly stated we should expose him more to the outside world! Poor kid parents locked him inside 24/7!"

"I know, but breaks my heart watching him cry whenever traveling to public places." 

"That's why he's our son now: to help him grow."

The floor suddenly shook. August knows the sign: Biff and Alex are officially awake. Biffs school is closed today letting spend more family quality than time.

August immediately took shelter beneath his bedroom roof, and the cozy bed sheets. Giant perspective, human bedrooms sizes equivalent to doll houses. His rest aside the giants room.

"What's for breakfast today? Perhaps freshly made pancakes?" Biff voice growing louder.

"Syrup hurts August's belly."

"Right-right, how about sausage?"

"He hates the texture."

"Scrambled eggs?"

"Thinks we're killing baby penguins."

Ashamed, August slid deeper and deeper underneath the blankets; freaks struggle eating food normally. His dad said—no, forget! Darn it! Why does he behave weirdly? The neighbors Lincolns human son behaves normal, and the Jensens little human daughter as well! Poor Alex and Biff were stuck raising a weirdo! He wasn't a brave boy nor smart. The one person who's story sounded similar was a kid name Neal Knight; Biff met fellow teacher Finn Knight, these two men swapped stories regarding human adopting. Nevertheless, sounds like Neal faces and defeated larger trials.

Meanwhile, August always cries picturing leaving home, experiences night terrors, and hates most foods. What a loser I am...

"Pssst...knock-knock little fella!" Biff's knocking shook the room. "Good morning!"

Mornings, Ugh!

The roof opens. Instead of seeing the larger house, Biff's handsome face blocks the view. His white teeth shine, calming orbs relax, and smile widening. 

"Good morning, Mr. Olsen."August squeaked. Since the duration they adopted him, neither dad can get the quiet tiny to call them Biff or Alex. Their child's therapist said August is nervous making the connection official; his last parents abandoned him at a crucial age. She noted to correct August, help him feel welcomed.

"Ah-ah! What's my name?"

"B...Biff." August shuttered, saying their name sounded forced.

"Correct! What's your name? I can't recall? Let me guess?" Biff's tickling fingers met August's thin sides.

"It's...it's..." the child giggled.

"It's what? Mr. Giggles?"

"No!" He laughed harder.

"Huh? How about Sir Ticklish?"

"Neither! I'm August!"

"Dang, you're right! I forgot!" Biff's fingers wrapped gently around the son and lifted upwards. "Sleep well buddy?"

"Uh huh!" Breaking house rule 5, he lied. Tossing and turning the whole night, little August practiced his book speech. He isn't nervous speaking in front of the couple, yet instead afraid of failing them preferably Alex. They've practiced two week, made notecards and still possibly failure plagues his brain. Proving progress will make them proud, will make them keep him. At the orphanage, fellow kids said giants return troubled children.

"Good morning bud!" Softly, Alex pinched August's tiny cheeks.

"G...good morning Mr.—I mean A..Alex."

"Wow! Someone looks sleepy. Sleep good?" Alex examined August's tired eyes, and constant long yawns.

"Yes sir." The boy responded.

"Okay," Alex said. "How does toast sound?"

"Delicious..." August faked a smile. The last thing he wants to do is eat.

What did you think? Love to hear some response to this story! I'm not sure about it, but let me know what you think!