The Holy Spirit

Episode [?]: The Holy Spirit

Orel makes a new friend outside of school.

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"Ow! Dad!"

Orel yelped as his father, Clay, harshly spanked him with his sturdy leather belt. He was being far more harsh with it than usual.

After a few more painful blows, Clay subsides and puts his belt through the holding holes in his pants.

Orel whines, pulling up his pants and rubbing his sore behind.

"There. That should teach you a lesson to not make messes in the house!" Clay told him sternly. "Think of what your mother has to clean up! Even a woman, who enjoys cleaning, would hate this!"

Orel nodded, his head feeling slightly dizzy. He felt bruises starting to form.

"Now, go outside. I don't want to see you right now," Clay grunted, sipping his liquor out of the small glass he kept in his hand.

Orel sighed. "Yes, dad."

He walked out of his father's study and out into the cold air. His mother, Bloberta, slammed the door behind him to not let in the air.

- 8:00 P.M. -

Orel had been walking around the city for quite a while, looking for his friends Doughy and Tommy; yet they were nowhere to be found.

A certain patch of land caught his eye: the graveyard.

Now, he hadn't been there ever since he raised the dead with Doughy. Orel disliked the fact of his father catching him there again.

But this time, what he saw was flowers.

He walked closer towards them. They were beautiful and all neatly wrapped into a deep red bouquet holding.

Orel smiled. 

They're so pretty... Maybe I should give them to dad to say sorry! He thought, and nodded to confirm.

He reached towards the coffin the bouquet was lying on to pick it up.

"What are you doing?" A raspy male voice came from behind.

Orel's entire body jolted, then ached a second later. Breathing heavily out of fear, he turned around.

A boy that looked just slightly older than him, about a year or so, stood there. He had on a red jacket and brown pants, his brunette hair was messy, and his eyes were a dark maroon. 

He towered over the crouching, fearful boy. "What are you doing?" He asked again, his voice clearing yet deeper.

"Sorry... Sorry..." Orel whispered, his voice shaking. In his mind, he was almost preparing for a beating from him. He covered his face.

The boy's eyes softened. 

"Woah... Um, hey, don't... don't worry about that. I—I dunno who placed them anyways," the boy seemed much calmer now, confused about Orel's reaction.

Orel stood up, only reaching to the boy's point of eyesight, below his forehead.

"Are... Are you okay?" 

"Yeah..." Orel looked around a bit.

The boy tilted his head. "What's your name?"

Orel looked back at him. "I'm Orel. Orel Puppington!" He grinned.

"Well, my name's Lucas. My house is, I don't know, a few blocks from here." Lucas waved around the east of Moralton.

"It's great to meet you, Lucas!" Orel reached to shake his hand, but Lucas pulled away before he could be touched.