The two would play, little by little, further from the forest. The fox was growing stronger, and bolder over years, till it dark could wander comfortably around the house. It could not enter the house though, unless the boy let it in, nor harm any inhabitants of the house. It had bluffed with him as a child. Even it didnt seem to know just why it worked that way though. If it did know at one time, it had long forgotten the reason. It mostly fed on animals anyway, and it had been long since it had eaten a human. The boy wasnt sure what it was, but when he learned that, he began to ask it questions.
Sometimes it was a crow, or a jay, or a rabbit, or a bobcat, and once even a bear, and another time as a pale white bloodhound. The boy could wallpaper always tell who it was though. He could feel it around him when theyd be close. It was a warm sensation deep inside of him. Every time the boy got beaten, hed hide in the woods away from his parents. The fox would appear to him sometimes. It acted at times like an animal, but would also play games with him and talk to him. As the boy grew, he began to risk playing with the fox closer to the house, usually at night, though it warned him that it had trouble traveling too far from its forest. It could go further, but it hurt at first.
It snorted and sniffed at him, then sat. The boy was still sobbing. It is very rare to see me if I dont want to be seen, and you arent afraid. I think i like you. You need a friend. It cocked its head back the other way. The boy never told anyone of his friend. The fox didnt always actually appear as a fox, in truth.
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You got to be far away from everyone. His lips quivered but he was still only crying about the potential of another whooping at the hands of either mother or father. It was a funny thing that his youth and inexperience made him too ignorant to really quantify the scale of threats. The fox was still growling but it slowed, and finally stopped. It cocked its head at the boy. The boy could see his eyes. They were like a humans, but a bright letter purple color.
I could tear out your throat. Drink up your blood. It lunged forward, suddenly baring its teeth again. The boy quivered a little but didnt rise or attempt to flee, simply putting one hand behind him and turning his head away. I dont care, just dont wanna see, he mumbled. The foxs face stopped in front of the boys.
The foxs mouth didnt move and yet it spoke. It growled, its lips curling back over sharp white teeth, and it lowered its head, stalking toward him. My parentsthey hurt me, oh! You flee from those who hurt you. It growled deeper, still unmoving, the sound of the voice still in his mind.
You should want to get from me boy! Ill tear you apart! I- i dont care The boy muttered, with what simple concept of defiance he possessed. Some stupid dog thing didnt scare him half as much. He knew what death was, vaguely. It seemed kind of nice.
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The boy was sobbing but not scared. Whoever it was didnt scare him as much as his parents. I just wanted to get away, the boy shouted back. The flitting red thing oliver stopped in front of him. It was a fox. You should want to get away from me, little boy. I dont like when people see. What did you want to get away from?
Hed run into the woods. There was a little stream ahead. His vision was still a little blurry but slowly faded back. He saw something flit across his field of view. It was ruddy orange and darted between trees. He tried to get up but fell backward as soon as he stood with a shout and a sob. Whyd you come walking in the woods today little boy? Something make growled at him, the voice of a man, low and cold.
cramped. His breath was so ragged his chest hurt, like he was suffocating. His heart was pounding harder than it had ever before. His head was light and he at last collapsed, falling first to his knees, then flat on his face. He was half conscious as his chest pounded, but still crying. When his head cleared, he looked back the way he had run. He couldnt see his house.
The boy knew what she meant. Hed sock his mother in the essay jaw, and maybe him as well, for her not having kept him quiet. They were both drunks, but he was the drunkest. That was for the best though. It meant he was passed out a lot whenever he was home. He could hear the old radio turn up in the attic. His dad was. His eyes were tearing.
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Not a member of Pastebin yet? Sign Up, it unlocks many cool features! Raw download report text.20 kb, a small brown-haired business boy sat outside his little house, staring into the backyard, out into the trees. His mother had struck him again. This time it broke skin. It wasnt the first time this had happened, but it didnt make it hurt any different. He was trying not to cry. She hated that, and said itd wake his father, and hed be even angrier.