The Starved

Chapter 9: The Rain that Softly Fell (2)

Conner feels his heart ache out for his brother. They stand on the edge of the forest, staring out at their dull house. The rain still falls, it slaps against their hair in an unrecognizable pattern. "We don't have to go back." Conner doesn't glance over to James, he is pleading. He keeps his eyes on the single house in the clearing of the forest. His brother doesn't turn his head, but his body twitches in response to Conner's statement.

James stays completely silent, they both do. Conner glances over to his brother, hoping that they won't go back to that house. James's hands are shaking. His eyes are pouring out tears from an ocean of memories. James opens his mouth to speak and lets out a desperate, crushed whimper. "We do have to go back." He says.

"James," Conner tries. It's no use. His brother takes a step forward, his body shaking in fear. He mumbles to himself and Conner barely hears the words as they escape his mouth.

"I don't want to. I don't want to." yet he continues to take steps forward. Conner follows his brother. He knows his brother is trying to do the right thing. However, their steps are reluctant. Painfully, each step covers distance, and in an instant they reach the house. The broken, disheveled house filled with so many internal pains, screams and memories.

Conner and James stand at the steps of their home, the ones that will lead them to the porch. The steps that will lead them under a sturdy wooden awning. It looks as though it could've been a beautiful tiny home from the old western days. But, the illusion of a beautiful home is broken with the mold that grows on the warped wooden railings due to a lack of cleaning. Storms, rain, wind, all of it, shaped this home. It is a small home, single floored, a mobile home.

James takes the first step onto the porch. The wood moans out as the weight of the thirteen year old boy is pushed upon it. He walks towards the door and grabs for the door's handle.

Then, as if the world decides to slow itself, it disconnects from what reality appears to be to Conner. His father, his brown haired, brown bearded father crashes through the door to their home. James tumbles backwards and rolls down the steps, he cries out in pain as his body viciously hits the wet grass. Their father is holding a revolver.

"No," Conner whimpers. He turns, his foot gives out beneath him slipping on the wet ground. His body slaps onto the dirt, mud covers his face.

"You think you can just worry us like that?" a deep voice rumbles from behind. Conner lies in the dirt for not a millisecond more. He twitches into action, his legs scramble to find some kind of grip to push himself up. "You just run off? Into the forest?" His father's words are slurred.

Conner dares to glance back to check on James. He is not moving. His body is still, lying next to the three steps leading to the porch. Their father steps over James, his eyes do not leave Conner. "Dad," Conner breathes out.

"I never thought we should've had you." His father stands in the rain now. His hair and beard are weighed down with the fluid from the skies. He has to blink a few times to get the rain out of his sight, his way. He turns his attention towards his revolver, popping it open and shoving his open hand into his light brown, tan leather jacket's pocket. He pulls out bullets and begins to load his weapon. He continues, "We give you so much. So, so much. I thought one was enough. I could take care of one shitty kid. But no, that whore of a mom you have decided to have another one. Did you know she cheated on me? After, she had you! Yeah, we weren't enough!" Conner's dad laughs outward, he takes a glance up at the sky and pops the revolver closed. "And, then not only that. She had you, and you're just fucked in the head!" Conner flinches at this. He stands up, finally gaining a grip with his bare feet. He turns his head towards his brother. He can't leave him. "We buy you pills, take you to doctor appointments, and feed you food. And, you run away. Do you know how many times we woke up in the middle of the fucking night to hear you screaming. Always screaming. Crying over this and that. Over nothing! Always, you were hallucinating. You always confused the doctors as well! 'Schizophrenia comes along in young adult hood' blah, blah, blah. 'This is quite rare.' 'Oh, he's a rare case?' He's special!" His dad aims the revolver, it is pointed at Conner's head.