Chapter 2
Scott was awoken suddenly by the front door slamming shut. He looked at the clock. It read 1:07am. He sat up and tried to slink back to bed, but he was too late. His father slowly limped into the room.
“Boy. Come here now, I want a hug,” his father slurred.
“I’m going to bed,” Scott murmured, vaguely gesturing towards his bedroom.
“BOY!” his father thundered. Scott sighed and ambled over to him, knowing that he was going to be hurt. As soon as Scott was within reach his father grabbed him, overgrown fingernails digging into Scott’s arm, screaming
“WHY AREN’T YOU IN BED?” Scott tried to explain to him that he had fallen asleep, but he slammed him into the wall so hard that the breath was knocked out of him. He got thrown to the floor and stomped on by his father, who was so drunk that he was nearly overbalancing. Scott sensed an opportunity and pushed his father over, jumped up and sped into his room. He then locked and reinforced the bedroom door and collapsed onto his bed, unconscious.
When Scott came around his subconscious mind had already made a decision. He glanced at his home-made alarm clock, which told him that it was now 4:49am. He shook his head to wake himself up before walking over to his cupboard. He then grabbed a small backpack, in which he put some clothes, a retractable knife, food, lots of money, a cap, his mobile phone, a sleeping bag, toiletries and a torch. He then opened his window and slid out into the dark, stormy night. He headed to the park where so many of his childhood memories had come from to bunk down in for the night. Little did he know the black car with tinted windows that was passing him on the street had been watching him for a very long time.
The next morning when Scott woke up, he felt very strange. "Funny," he thought, "it almost seems like someone is watching me!" Scott dismissed the ridiculous thought,, as he was in a park at 8am with nobody around him in the morning dew. Scott was getting some food out when he was suddenly hit by a ton of memories of his mother, on a picnic with him, laughing and grinning wildly. He didn't want to think of her, not now, not when just the night previously he had slunk out of the house that she had lived in, vowing never to come back. He decided to move on, away from his memories and emotions, away from the places he had always known. He walked torough the picturesque park at a brisk pace, determined to get away from it all. He walked through the streets of his home town, past the dusty old post office, past the bank, past the local supermarket. He remembered all of the times that he and his mother had mucked around in the supermarket, Scott putting ridiculous and embarrasing items in the trolley just to see how his mother would react at the checkout. But his mother would always take it in her stride, making up a hilarious excuse just to make Scott laugh. He quickened his pace, needing not another reminder of the biggest loss in his life.
Scott, after walking for about an hour, ended up in the stunning countryside just outside the town, with nothing but humongous trees and lushious grass around him. He spent a few hours scavenging around for material, and started to build. In his youth, he had once been on a survival camp, learning how to build shelters and decipher poisonous plants from edible ones. He got some deadwood and leaves lying around, and also any type of junk that passers by had left; lengths of rope, old corrigated sheets of steel (probably used to make shelters in the past), some old drink bottles and even an old saucepan! Scott was a bit confused though, because all of the pieces of man-made stuff he found seemed almost like they were strategically placed or organised, since they weren't rusted or worn. On closer inspection of the corrigated iron, it looked like it had been PAINTED to look old! Scott felt a bit suspicious but ignored this strange turn of events, and went to build a shelter. There wasn't much that anyone would be able to do to him, let alone WANT to do anything.
Scott finally finished building his shelter and readied a fire for later use with deadwood and leaves, using his knife as a flint, another thing he had learnt at survival camp. After that he want and made some rabbit traps, using food as bait. He had always been taught to plan in advance, and although he hadn't really thought through running away, now it was going to help him. He went back to his shelter and ate some lunch from his food supply. "It actually tastes better than Dad's food," he thought ruefully, while also thinking about how he would never actually have said that in front of his father.
After his lunch he explored around his shelter, getting to know his surroundings. He absently picked up a stick and walked onwards with it, planning to hurl it away just for something to do. But suddenly, he felt something writhing around under his foot. He slowly looked down, and saw exactly what he didn't want to see. He had accidentally trodden on a snake, a venomous one at that. He recognised from the snake as an eastern brown snake, one of the most venomous snakes in the world. Scott had always been animal-loving, and he didn't want to harm such a beautiful yet deadly creature. He realised that he was still holding the long stick in his hand, and that near the place where he was holding it there was a fork. A plan hatched in Scott's mind. He snapped off the twigs extending from the fork in the stick until the fork was at the very end of the stick, not big enough for the snake to wriggle out. He positioned the fork carefully over the snake's neck and, lightning fast in one motion, he lifted his foot up at the same time as pushing the stick down over the snake's neck, trapping it. He moved as far away from the snake as he could while still holding the snake in place. He readied himslef to run.
Scott dropped the stick and ran for his life. He sprinted towards his shelter, and didn't stop until he arrived at it. He was exausted, breathing heavily, but at the same time felt elated. He had done it! He was extremely happy with himself. Scott then went and lit his fire and checked his traps. He hadn't caught anything yet but there was always tomorrow. Just before he walked into his shelter he felt that strange feeling again, like someone was watching him. After a moment he shook his head to dismiss the thought and clambered into his makeshift home just as the sun set.
