A House Of Monsters And Saviors

1

Chapter One

"You better finish today, or you won't eat," his father yelled. He turned to head back into the cool house, "and don't think about trying to sneak inside," he added, slamming the screen door and the inside door behind him.

Yoongi heard the lock click. There was no going back inside, even for the bathroom; he shook his head and wondered if everyone's fathers were like his. Yoongi had a goal in mind: clear all the weeds in the backyard by noon. That way, when he worked on the side of the house, it would be in the shade. He walked to the garden shed, grabbing a pair of gloves and a spade. He was sure there was a hat somewhere. Yoongi finally spotted it. He shook it out, putting it on his head. He had learned a long time ago that if he attempted to stay covered in the hot sun, it helped to keep him cooler.

He got to work starting at the shaded side following the sun, being sure to stop and drink from the hose; his father had permitted it after Yoongi ended up in the hospital after having to spend the whole day without food or water somehow convincing the doctors that it was an accident that he would be more careful and make sure his son was better cared for. Yoongi didn't know any different; if he had, he would have told the doctors or even the social worker what his father was doing when they came to see him, but fear gripped him as they poked and prodded, asking questions he didn't know how to answer.

"No one will want you or take care of you," his father's voice echoed in his head, so here he was in the blazing hot sun, pulling weeds that seemed to be never-ending.

This was his life day in and day out. He cooked, cleaned, and tended to the garden. If something wasn't done right, he was beaten and starved; if his father was in a foul mood, the same thing would happen. This was the only life he had ever known. Yoongi often wondered if his mother was still with them and if his father would have still turned so cruel. He remembered times as a small child laughing and playing with the older man. At times, Yoongi wondered if it was an actual memory or just one he had made up in his head to comfort himself.

He never spoke of his wife shutting Yoongi down every time he tried to talk about her. So he never brought her up again that seven years ago. He kept a picture of his mother hidden in the shed; he never wanted to forget her face, so similar to his own, the shape of her eyes, the color of his hair exactly like his mother's. Even the slight point of his ears he got from her.

He sighed, thinking about his mother as he pulled up the last of the weeds, his fingers and arms protesting. Yoongi was tired. The sun was setting by the time he had double-checked, triple-checked everything, pulling the few he had missed. His stomach grumbled in protest as he gulped down more water from the hose. Yoongi could smell the cooking meat from the neighbor next door; he could hear them laughing and the sweet sound of baby laughter. Yoongi smiled, hearing the small child; he wondered if their father was kind to them.

Yoongi sat on the porch, waiting for his father to come to inspect the yard before allowing him back into the house. He shivered as the sun sank deeper into the horizon; he looked at the small window in the door. The soft glow of the nightlight in the kitchen informed him his father wasn't home. The older man probably went out drinking, forgetting that Yoongi was in the yard.

He got up and headed into the shed, a discarded sleeping bag his father let him have rolled up in the corner. He picked it up, shaking it out as he unrolled it. Yoongi watched and sighed as a spider fell out, scurrying across the floor. Another thing that Yoongi had gotten used to was the small insects crawling around the room.

Yoongis's body ached as he lay on the hard wooden floor, all the manual labor of the day catching up to him. He drifted off to the soft sounds of crickets singing their mating song. Yoongi rubbed his face as the early morning sun peaked through the small window. He stretched, sitting up; he wondered if his father even came home. His stomach grumbled. It had been two full days since he had last eaten.