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A FORK IN THE ROAD

Bright illuminous Lights bore out of a small rectangular bungalow located just twenty minutes outside of the city named Norfolk, The brightness of the inside made the colour of the house show clearly even when the night sky tried to hide its blandness for civilians to see. A pale green was placed upon its poorly built walls, and above the rusty old door read the sentence "Welcome To Our Humble Home". The lawn was unkempt and overgrown, weeds hung over the pathway just off to the side of the garden and on the edge of the yard was a 'for sale' sign clearly showing the fact that the inhabitants moved around too much to care for their monstrous excuse for a lawn.

Through the lopsided window and into a well lit room was a wooden table, splinters covering the surface whilst plates were placed upon the top. Three people sat in silence holding hands, two of them had their eyes closed, one man and the other a woman. The man's dirty blonde hair was cut ruggedly short, his face was stern and creased as he clenched his eyes so forcefully that you could not tell if he was on the toilet or not. His dark brown beard was clearly the only thing that he looked after, as it was perfectly shaped all around and anyone could easily tell that it had been cut relatively recently.

The man's rough and hairy hands were wrapped tightly around the smoother hand of his wife, who's hands and fingers were smooth and painted, the complete opposite of her spouse. The woman's long black hair rode down to her waist and was as silky as fine linen, her face was soft and yet again was the complete opposite of her husbands as her eyes were slightly closed, not one clench or crease in sight on her face. The man opened his mouth to start the prayer before dinner, his thin chapped lips parted slowly as he began the short story he'd repeat every day before food.

"God's plan is truly divine, every ounce of evil in the world has a balance, whilst everything good in the world has unlimited health and nurture." The unbathed man slurred whilst a wonky smile crept upon his wrinkled rotten face, "Thank you Lord for providing us with this gift of food, Amen." he said as his body swang with exaggerated movements. The two other occupiers of the room echoed the man, one in a light cheery voice, the other in an unbothered low one.

The unknown voice had come from the spouses only child, Patrick. His soft green eyes had not shut once during his fathers prayers, he hated how his father was either too lazy or to dumb to think of any other words to say before food. His full lips tutted towards his father as the older man roughly began eating his food. He poked at his carrots clumsily, his eyes rolling as looked towards his father who was currently scoffing down his food. Now in no way did Patrick dislike his absentee father, but there were many things that he did hate for severely good reasons. The most obvious reason was the rumours of his fathers infidelity, many of his mothers friends had chosen to worry both himself and his mother as his father spent twenty hours of the day outside of the house, only coming back for necessities.

He had started doing the exact same routine ever since Patrick's grandfather passed away when he was just barely in the 8th grade, as soon as his grandfather was put to rest in a cemetery next to his dear wife, Patrick's father took his son out of school and left the little town known as Mystic Falls. Leaving behind Patrick's Uncle and all of his friends he had made whilst growing up in the small town. This broke the young boy, he didn't get to say goodbye to any of his friends nor his Uncle Sean, to say that he still harbours strong feelings towards that act would be an understatement. His dad solely lived off the inheritance that he had received from his own father, which over the years dwindled because of how many times the family had moved cities or towns for his fathers weird habits.

Patrick's tongue clicked at the top of his mouth as he played with his food, his fork scraped the dish as the carrot that once wore the utensil fell off. His father cringed at the noise, looking up at the man's green eyes squinted at his son not liking the lack of respect he has towards the dish that his mother prepared. "Stop playing around, Patrick." The man commanded, whilst his Wife dropped her cutlery and looked towards him.

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 | Elena GilbertWhere stories live. Discover now