On January 1st 2019, in a small town called Fordwich in Canterbury where as little as 400 hundred people lived in rather peaceful areas stocked to the brim with green fields and beautiful foliage just in your back garden, but off kilter to any roads of pathways was a small rut of a house, surrounded by multiple pens of sheep and cows and fields of carrots and tomatoes.
Inside the house was tiny room upstairs past the cracked cobblestone walls and slightly holed ceiling, there was a sense that the building would blow over at the slightest gust of wind. On the second floor there were three rooms, one for the "sweet" old couple who the house belonged to and one each to their grandsons, Kyle and Shaun Wellington.
The brothers had lived with their grandparents for most of their lives, the way they put it was:
"Your parents? please, those idiots dropped you here without a care"
"Your father was a drunk-"
"Your mother was a whore-"
"A Skank-"
"They're Lowlives-"
It was all the same to Kyle, he had heard every demeaning thing they said about them and chose to ignore it all in the hopes it was wrong. His brother however, developed the same mindset. He was obsessed with bad mouthing his parents so long as he wasn't an easy target for grandpa. Grandma was always the verbal one, the one who'd bite your ear off but go no further than that.
Grandpa was different, he had no issues smacking them when they said or did anything out of line in his mind. He was a massive fan of corporal punishment too, he'd make the boys take runs scaling the farm, you fall, you get smacked, you ruin the food or scare the animals, you get smacked.
Kyle was in his right mind to think about the sweet escape away from them, he remained in his room with his headphones in, trying to block out the world that tried so heavily to push him down.
"KYLE! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE NOW!" He faintly heard his Grandpa scream from the bottom of the stairs, he was doodling in his pages intricate drawings of cats and dogs and other animals like the ones on the farm.
Deciding he didn't want a beating today he hurried down after locking away his retro and outdated cassette player and locks in tightly. Knowing it'll only be revoked if it was found. As he was sliding down the stairs, he discovered his brother was already awake and munching on the bland toast grandma had made, while the couple were leaning against the kitchen side, waiting on the last family member to arrive. They didn't seem too happy (though Kyle knew they always wore frowns anyways).
"So, Shaun just told me that you forgot to lock the pig pen last night..."
"I-I didn't...he was on trough duty while I shoveled the shit!" Kyle blurted out at them, knowing no matter what would happen, they were going to punish him anyway, despite the shit eating grin Shaun was wearing as this all unfolded.
"Boy if you raise your voice at me again, you'll be sleeping with the pigs tonight, and if you forget to lock the pen again, maybe the thing slaughtering our chickens can finish you off" His grandfather spat, looking at him as if he wasn't worth anything.
"Whats slaughtering the hens?!" His wife asked shrilly, plopping her marigolds in the lukewarm suds as she stomps over to Shaun at the table.
"I know for a fact, a certain stupid boy had left the chicken pen unguarded while we slept last night, didn't you Shaun!" she squealed, but Kyle had already stopped listening when he noticed his grandpa reaching for his belt, and without much waiting, he slapped the thing harshly against Shaun's backside.
He cried out from the shock of it and tears swam down his cheeks.
Then he turned to Kyle, who had already closed his eyes in anticipation. He reckoned his grandfather liked to hit them sometimes, because he'd smile, it was the only times he saw him actually happy...its why he couldn't stand to open his eyes to him.
CRACK!
A thick blistering print was spreading over Kyle's arms, arms he had willingly placed out for him. it was burning so badly he didn't know how to cope with all the after-pain, letting out a sliver of a whimper, before racing out with Shaun to complete their daily tasks.
After getting outside, the cool breeze cooled his tanned skin, as Shaun bares his ass into a bucket of water for relief, which guessing by his reaction, worked well enough for him. But Kyle had not forgotten how his brother had thrown him under the bus like that, they'd been through everything together, just to end up on opposing sides of the farm.
"You're such a prick, blaming me because you're still scared of his belt? you seriously need to grow up Shaun!"
"I didn't forget to lock the pen, so the next culprit is you what else should I have done" He tried to save his skin but Kyle wasn't buying it, pelting him with dried up cat shit left on the floor by the barn cat, which was situated at the far stretch of the farm. Past the veg and fruit which they sold to the market stands in Fordwich.
Kyle had only just turned 19 an his brother 17, they were abandoned on the door step and Kyle could barely remember it as he was only 2 and a half. So taking all his hints off his grandparents were null and void considering they were so biased.
"Please can we just forget about it and do our work, grandpa will be heading to town soon to pick up some more seeds from Tommy's shop"
"I Know, I was planning on hiding in his truck..." Kyle admitted.
"R-really?...can I come?"
"Oh really?, why should I trust you?!"
Shaun didn't answer that, and instead kept his head down and started to roll the hay up for the cows in the field, but Kyle wanted to make true on his promise, spotting an opening in the back of his grandfathers pickup truck. with his little brother distracted he slowly and silently makes his way to the front of the house, lifting up the tarp and slithering in. It didn't take long for his grandfather to leave the house in his nice people clothes while jumping up front.
The truck was old and rusty, a jalopy more than anything, and Kyle could imagine this was his true baby, his pride and joy...not even his wife came before this beast. Spluttering and creaking it sets off for the town Kyle and Shaun were banned from. He didn't know why, but now hes more invested than anything.
Finally he was getting a slice at peace from that awful place he was forced to call home. He laid on the floor of the truck for what felt like forever, but he had finally reached the brink of town, recognizing it from the marshes that ran through its center, covered in cattails and lily-pads.
He saw his last chance to escape as his grandpa had just stopped at a crossing and was concentrated on driving, meaning he was unseen when he bolts from the back of the truck, diving though the grass near the marsh and lying down on the slant towards the water, out of sight.
He was praying his grandpa didn't see him, then he really would be in trouble, he'd have to get driven back to the hut and get punished, meaning grandpa would be late for his appointment with the local flower shop, quite possibly making the whole situation worse. But with bated breath and a deafening silence, the truck revs and accelerates forward, leaving Kyle in the damps of the marshes, to do as he pleased for the rest of the day in a place he'd never been.
Kyle was bounding on the inside, he was away from the farm and his sideshow of a family, He only regretted leaving his cassette and his brother now he was so far from home. How would he get back? will he try to cop a lift before his grandpa gets back? or take the consequences when he returned satisfied?
He takes a freeing breath and walks away, surveying the town and all it had to offer from the wondrous houseboats perched on the marshes bank, and the incredibly nice people who offered him some bread to feed the ducks with ( he didn't feed the ducks).
Walking along the main road he comes across a town center that was bustling with the small numbers of the village it could offer, bread in hand and chewing on it happily as he takes in the wonderful scent of the bakery he could smell every night, wafting through the air to the farm. The game-store full of the village boys who wanted a copy of whatever was trending that week.
The convenience corner shop black and white with old architecture from the Tudor era. it was odd to see the people who would go into certain shops, like a mother with two children rushing into a nearby clothes shop, holding her babies shoes as they fell to pieces on their feet. An old fat man sat contently sleeping in the busy rush-hour on a bench covered to the brim with pigeon shit. A man crying over the two pints of milk he dropped just outside the shop doors.
"Wow" he gasps. What a sight, he thought.
"KYLE!"
He knew the voice, but didn't dare turn around, instead, he took off in a sprint hoping his slow grandfather doesn't see where he goes, but he wasn't on foot. The spluttering of his jalopy was pursuing him with great intent to harm, revving it to antagonize Kyle.
But he didn't have the spine to turn around. Cause when he did, he knew he'd have to stare at his crooked, ugly...smile.