Thread: Perfectly Safe -- FDM + Sparrow

Where is he?! Malcolm called from within the two-story farm house. The man was pissed with his stepson, Tyler, for something terribly unreasonable, as was the usual. Tyler was certain that the man looked for reasons to punish him because he was sick and twisted, not because he deserved it. Thankfully, Tylerd managed to escape his stepfathers wrath, this time, before the punishment began he still had terrible bruising and a few healing wounds from last time. Hed bounded from the house early that morning and dashed into the field as deep as he could, just after the sun rose. Still, as far out as hed made it, he could hear the bastard yelling for him. Surely he was convinced there was no escaping that, no matter how long he ran. He had no plans, today, though he rarely ever did. He simply wanted to escape, and itching feeling coaxing him out into the golden wheat hed learned to trust his instincts when he realized his soul could tell when his stepfather was coming close to abusing him, again. It was because of that man, too, that hed taken up drinking and smoking at the ripe age of eleven. Itd been several years since his first cigarette and first gulp of rum, but things hadnt changed much since then. The family still lived in the old white house centered in fields of golden wheat that stretched for miles in every direction and despite the big harvest they had every year they were still bare-bones broke. It was his fault, according to Malcolm, but Taylor knew better Malcolms gambling and whore addictions made eating a luxury. For a long time, Taylor felt pity for his mum. He was convinced that she gave a damn, that she had been trying for years to escape the hell shed gotten herself and her young son into, but the longer they lived with Malcolm, the worse things got, and the less she tried to interfere. Now days, the bastard took a liking to punishing Taylor in the living room, sometimes even making his mother watch. She never said a goddamn word, and he was certain shed cried all the tears she could for him. That woman had lost her soul a long time ago, which meant there was simply nothing left to pity, and nothing left to hope for. In short, that meant Taylor was on his own. With a pack of his stepfathers cigarettes and a bottle of his rum, packed with a bit of canned food and other small supplies, Taylor left the house, intending to make camp near the outskirts of the field for a couple days. It really was a good thing that Taylor was gifted with a great imagination without it, hed be captive to Malcolms abuse with no reprieve. At least this way, he was able to offer himself the opportunity for adventure. He pretended, as he packed his supplies, that he was the lone surviving soldier of his squad, that hed been sent with his fellow warriors to explore an uncharted planet and that theyd died in the crash. He was all he had left. He stepped quietly through the wheat, mentally narrating his every move. When he heard his stepfather call out, he pretended it was the cry of a beast that had caught his scent. He took off at a dash, once more, determined to make it to the perimeter before the beast could catch him the perimeter was safe, protected by a man-made, invisible shield wall. If he could get through that, then nothing could get to him. Nothing dangerous, anyway.