Should I make this part longer or is it fine?
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I stare at the two school boys sleeping on the couch filling the almost silent room with their barely audible snores and breathing pattern. Inhale 5, exhale 4. I smile and push them off the couch slightly crumpling the uniform they're wearing. They must have been waiting for me to see them off,
"Wake up now orphans, it's time to go to school otherwise you'll be late. Chop chop!" I clap my hands and usher the sleepy boys out of my apartment. Now time to get ready to walk back to my one of a kind hometown. I smile, I'm going back to Devil's spine, ironic since one of my many names is red devil.
I run into my room and pull up my black ripped jeans and put on a crumbled while top on. I slide my jacket on and slip on my worn out pair of black combat boots, I lace 'em up and whistle. Wolf comes running and we make our departure to my welcoming hometown. Curious glances are passed to Wolf and I as we walk towards the deathly area. As Wolf crawls under the opening a fairly large hole by the steel fence I climb over, we both meet on the other side and look around the ghostly area. It's quitter than I remember, I smile and walk pass the shady stands, the dodgy people and the Horney hookers. Now where is the weapon place again...
Oi God or author or reader or whatever... keep my identity a secret, I don't want my uncle to realise I'm his nephew that killed his sister... unfortunately for me he's the guy that sells all the quality weapons for a worthy price. He's one of the strongest, men in this sector. But like the rest he's fearful of the scum we call police. I spit on the sidewalk, the hobo I spat by glares at me I smirk at his stubbly raging face. Wolf growls at him and the hobo backs off so some people are scared off some dogs that look like wolves, I ruffle Wolf's fur and we continue to walk to my uncle's famous alleyway in which the weapons are sold.
To be honest I wouldn't mind my uncle's wrath but one person who I doubt but definitely see is one specific man, . I shiver at the thought of his bulging dark grey eyes and stained teeth, UGH I just despise that guy. That reminds me am I supposed to address my uncle with honorifics or not... I shake my head of my thoughts and walk into the alleyway. I lick my lips as my eyes scan over all the daggers and guns.
"Oi old man can I get the " My uncle grunts in response and bends down to pick up the four different sets of bladed weapons, "How much?" the man's wrinkled eyes widen by a fraction when he sees my smiling face, cigarette he's sucking on falls from his mouth onto the gravel. A grin dances on his light features,
"Wait outside of your old home for about a maximum of an hour and you can have all these bad boys for free." I nod and walk north of the alley,
"I guess we're going back home for a bit, huh boy." I look down at my Utonagan who barks in response, "Do you think mum's going to be making her famous stale but slightly salted rice balls?"
Wolf's ears flop down and he lets out a small whimper, I sigh and apologize quietly but loud enough for him to hear. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of walking to my grey slightly stable former home, I stroll in and leave my shoes by the door which I just closed. Mum would always make Wolf sits by my shoes and stares at me urging to continue to walk into the house, I sigh and comply. Mum would always scold me for not taking off my shoes and leaving them by the door.
I stroll into the living room where a single chair hands into the centre, I sit on it with both hands planted firmly on my knees. I remember we couldn't afford couches back then, we could only deal with the chairs that came with the house. When she was still here she would make me sit in front of her, with my back facing her, we would talk about our days whilst she was picking out the dirt from my dark locks of hair. I decide to walk towards the kitchen expecting mum to be there making the plain rice balls. But she wasn't... of course she wasn't... I wipe my hand over the dusty table top and recall when I would've finished helping uncle I would rush back home in the kitchen to see: a small plate of three to five ball of rice on the table and mum washing the dirty dishes with freezing tap water. She would tell me off when attempted to touch the food with my dirty hands so I would have to wait for her to finish the dishes so I could wash my hands, only then we could eat together. Most of the times I would get the left over rice ball because mum would always make an odd amount - but I never question her- and other times I would lie to say that I wasn't really hungry and we would half the last rice ball, but that was when I was a bit older around four five years of age and I noticed how much mum was suffering. That's why I always hated when people would show up to our door and we would have to invite them in and share our dinner meaning mum would eat even less, then after that even smaller dinner I would be sent out so I would walk to where my friend would always be scavenging for scraps. I would always come back in the morning around eight when that happened.
YOU ARE READING
Instinct
TerrorA story about blood, deception, family and murder and the one teen at the centre of it all. Wolf has never been able to see colour. Only red. Red has surrounded his grey life and he found a comfort in the shade of crimson. Join Wolf and his pack as...