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Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
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Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
1,596
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 2
Chapter 2 - Runaway
Veron looked around his room when the yelling suddenly stopped. There was nothing. It was pure silence aside from the small amount of noise coming from his Discman, and his sister’s steady breathing. Instantly he stood up, nearly knocking over his chair in the process.
Blue eyes wandered slowly to his door, still locked, and he listened for any sound that someone could be coming. He stood in total silence. He had not heard anyone leave, or had thought so anyway. Quickly he made his way to the window where he looked to the driveway in search of their car. 'Still there' suddenly, he was very worried. 'What was the last thing I heard?' he asked himself quickly trying to think over his current situation. '... Nothing... there has been nothing, no sound, no yelling...' Then panic struck, 'where the fuck is mom!?' Quickly he turned around, fear and loathing etched into his face, dark hair swinging wildly about as he looked for some way that he could get out of the house.
Rene sat up quickly when she heard her brother moving about the room, "What’s wrong? Veron, what’s wrong." she whispered, tears forming in her young eyes. Her brother didn't usually panic like this. She watched as he tossed clothes into a small bag. Nothing warm, mostly mesh shirts and leather pants... the clothes he used for clubbing. She remembered him saying that dancing could be a job, that’s how they were going to leave; he would dance for rich people. She never understood why she couldn't go along. She had to stay at Marks house, usually until the darkness was almost gone, then he would take her home. He never explained anything to her, not like a real person would. She got so frustrated; she was not a little girl anymore.
"Rene, I need you to get some of your clothes, alright?" He replied, coming to kneel in front of her. "We have enough money that we can leave, but you can't bring everything alight. We'll be back, we'll come back later." he silently brushed a lock of hair out of his sisters eyes and wiped away the few tears that had accumulated there.
She nodded and headed toward her dresser, the small white one, with pink butterflies. She wondered why something so white, so pretty, could also be frightening. It was, that’s for sure. It was like a memory of all the bad things that ever happened. Small chunks of paint and wood were missing from when her oldest brother lost his temper and yelled. There were also reddish brown splotches of paint, she never knew how they got there, but knew that Veron had something to do with it. He always did. He was nice, the best big brother anyone could ask for, but everywhere he went, the red paint would show up. Especially after he had come home from work. To exhausted to even undress for bed. Rene cringed as she opened the first drawer. And pulled out her favorite shirt, the one Veron had given her, the black one with the "A" and a circle around it. He called it 'Anarchy'. He had the exact same one, on special occasions they would play dress up, and they would both wear clubbing outfits.
"Rene, hurry. We don't have time to dawdle." Veron scolded. Quickly casting a glance offer his shoulder at her. "Put them in this bag, I'll be right back. Stay in here!" He ordered as he placed the bag beside her and kissed her cheek quickly. "I'll be right back, and I want you packed by then. Understand?" he asked, once again brushing her unruly hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. You can remenis when we get outta here.
Rene nodded, she didn't know what remenis meant, but she figured it had something to do with packing. "I will." she promised, quickly turning back to her dresser and pulling out more clothes and shoving them into the bag, only quickly glancing as what she grabbed. Her clubbing skirt, the black one with lace and ruffles, the one that looked like a ballet skirt gone wrong. But she loved in none the less. Those went in the bag, then her blue jeans, and the pink and blue bunny shirt that was her favorite, or maybe her second favorite; she couldn't decide. After that, things seemed to go in a blur. Randomly grabbing shirts and pants and skirts and shoving them into the bag.
She couldn't leave Buttercup either though. She new her brother said clothes only. But she wanted the picture, and her doll. She never left without them she couldn't.
When Veron came back she was sitting on the bed, her arms wrapped tightly around the bag. "I have everything I need," she said. "Are you packed?" She noticed her brother bag was not as full as hers, but also noticed that he was carrying a bunch of the food from the cupboards.
Veron sighed. It had been close. Grabbing the food had been more difficult than he had hoped. Both were passed out at the kitchen table, and the kitchen was not big. He managed it however taking only canned goods, and a loaf of bread. 'I have enough money to buy some food on the bus. He decided quickly, when Marek began to move. "Yes, I'm packed." He replied. Quickly looking at his sister before putting the food into his bag, then tossing his journal on top of it all. "We need to be very quite, Rene. We're going to go out the back door and through the garage so that Mom and Marek don't see us. You understand." He asked, continuing only when he saw her nod. "Good. Then we're going to go to the bus stop. We're going to go to Brandon. It's about 7 hours away. I have friends there, who are going to help us out. Alright?"
Rene nodded again. She was beginning to get scared. They were sneaking out of their own house. 'What about mom" she asked herself, but she had no time to think twice. They were leaving. Sooner than either of them had planned; but they needed out, and Rene knew it. She hated it when mom and Marek yelled. It scared her. She tried to be strong like Veron. She tried not to cry. But at night she always did. She couldn't be strong like Veron. In a passing thought she wondered if he ever cried. She wondered how many times he thought about Dad. They were only passing thoughts however, not important enough to ponder on. Besides Veron was becoming impatient with her. Waving for her to hurry up.
She did, quickly moving along side her brother like a shadow among lesser shadows. Careful not to drop her bag, or make the stairs squeak. Holding tight to the hem of the brother’s shirt as they nearly ran through the house in lightning quick, smooth footsteps. It was a game she used to play with her brother that taught her how to move like that. Blind mans bluff, She won every time once she learned to move quick and silent on the hard wood floors. She thanked him for that; for being there and teacher her things.
Once outside and a safe distance from the house, Veron stopped and looked at his young sister. 'It's going to be alright.' he concluded, 'everything is going to turn out in the end. Slowly they made their way to the bus stop; he bought two one way tickets to Brandon, smiled, and said his thanks. Then they sat and waited for the bus that would take them one step closer to finding their father, and one step farther from a certain and painful punishment.
Veron looked around his room when the yelling suddenly stopped. There was nothing. It was pure silence aside from the small amount of noise coming from his Discman, and his sister’s steady breathing. Instantly he stood up, nearly knocking over his chair in the process.
Blue eyes wandered slowly to his door, still locked, and he listened for any sound that someone could be coming. He stood in total silence. He had not heard anyone leave, or had thought so anyway. Quickly he made his way to the window where he looked to the driveway in search of their car. 'Still there' suddenly, he was very worried. 'What was the last thing I heard?' he asked himself quickly trying to think over his current situation. '... Nothing... there has been nothing, no sound, no yelling...' Then panic struck, 'where the fuck is mom!?' Quickly he turned around, fear and loathing etched into his face, dark hair swinging wildly about as he looked for some way that he could get out of the house.
Rene sat up quickly when she heard her brother moving about the room, "What’s wrong? Veron, what’s wrong." she whispered, tears forming in her young eyes. Her brother didn't usually panic like this. She watched as he tossed clothes into a small bag. Nothing warm, mostly mesh shirts and leather pants... the clothes he used for clubbing. She remembered him saying that dancing could be a job, that’s how they were going to leave; he would dance for rich people. She never understood why she couldn't go along. She had to stay at Marks house, usually until the darkness was almost gone, then he would take her home. He never explained anything to her, not like a real person would. She got so frustrated; she was not a little girl anymore.
"Rene, I need you to get some of your clothes, alright?" He replied, coming to kneel in front of her. "We have enough money that we can leave, but you can't bring everything alight. We'll be back, we'll come back later." he silently brushed a lock of hair out of his sisters eyes and wiped away the few tears that had accumulated there.
She nodded and headed toward her dresser, the small white one, with pink butterflies. She wondered why something so white, so pretty, could also be frightening. It was, that’s for sure. It was like a memory of all the bad things that ever happened. Small chunks of paint and wood were missing from when her oldest brother lost his temper and yelled. There were also reddish brown splotches of paint, she never knew how they got there, but knew that Veron had something to do with it. He always did. He was nice, the best big brother anyone could ask for, but everywhere he went, the red paint would show up. Especially after he had come home from work. To exhausted to even undress for bed. Rene cringed as she opened the first drawer. And pulled out her favorite shirt, the one Veron had given her, the black one with the "A" and a circle around it. He called it 'Anarchy'. He had the exact same one, on special occasions they would play dress up, and they would both wear clubbing outfits.
"Rene, hurry. We don't have time to dawdle." Veron scolded. Quickly casting a glance offer his shoulder at her. "Put them in this bag, I'll be right back. Stay in here!" He ordered as he placed the bag beside her and kissed her cheek quickly. "I'll be right back, and I want you packed by then. Understand?" he asked, once again brushing her unruly hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. You can remenis when we get outta here.
Rene nodded, she didn't know what remenis meant, but she figured it had something to do with packing. "I will." she promised, quickly turning back to her dresser and pulling out more clothes and shoving them into the bag, only quickly glancing as what she grabbed. Her clubbing skirt, the black one with lace and ruffles, the one that looked like a ballet skirt gone wrong. But she loved in none the less. Those went in the bag, then her blue jeans, and the pink and blue bunny shirt that was her favorite, or maybe her second favorite; she couldn't decide. After that, things seemed to go in a blur. Randomly grabbing shirts and pants and skirts and shoving them into the bag.
She couldn't leave Buttercup either though. She new her brother said clothes only. But she wanted the picture, and her doll. She never left without them she couldn't.
When Veron came back she was sitting on the bed, her arms wrapped tightly around the bag. "I have everything I need," she said. "Are you packed?" She noticed her brother bag was not as full as hers, but also noticed that he was carrying a bunch of the food from the cupboards.
Veron sighed. It had been close. Grabbing the food had been more difficult than he had hoped. Both were passed out at the kitchen table, and the kitchen was not big. He managed it however taking only canned goods, and a loaf of bread. 'I have enough money to buy some food on the bus. He decided quickly, when Marek began to move. "Yes, I'm packed." He replied. Quickly looking at his sister before putting the food into his bag, then tossing his journal on top of it all. "We need to be very quite, Rene. We're going to go out the back door and through the garage so that Mom and Marek don't see us. You understand." He asked, continuing only when he saw her nod. "Good. Then we're going to go to the bus stop. We're going to go to Brandon. It's about 7 hours away. I have friends there, who are going to help us out. Alright?"
Rene nodded again. She was beginning to get scared. They were sneaking out of their own house. 'What about mom" she asked herself, but she had no time to think twice. They were leaving. Sooner than either of them had planned; but they needed out, and Rene knew it. She hated it when mom and Marek yelled. It scared her. She tried to be strong like Veron. She tried not to cry. But at night she always did. She couldn't be strong like Veron. In a passing thought she wondered if he ever cried. She wondered how many times he thought about Dad. They were only passing thoughts however, not important enough to ponder on. Besides Veron was becoming impatient with her. Waving for her to hurry up.
She did, quickly moving along side her brother like a shadow among lesser shadows. Careful not to drop her bag, or make the stairs squeak. Holding tight to the hem of the brother’s shirt as they nearly ran through the house in lightning quick, smooth footsteps. It was a game she used to play with her brother that taught her how to move like that. Blind mans bluff, She won every time once she learned to move quick and silent on the hard wood floors. She thanked him for that; for being there and teacher her things.
Once outside and a safe distance from the house, Veron stopped and looked at his young sister. 'It's going to be alright.' he concluded, 'everything is going to turn out in the end. Slowly they made their way to the bus stop; he bought two one way tickets to Brandon, smiled, and said his thanks. Then they sat and waited for the bus that would take them one step closer to finding their father, and one step farther from a certain and painful punishment.