Origin of the golden boi!
Oh my! I've done did a prompt! Tell me how bad it is because I haven't written anything outside of an rp for a LOOONG time.
"He's already in bed."
"Of course, little boys need their sleep."
Their voices were hushed. And with good reason. It was after eight thirty! Such a late hour, the pair didn't want to wake the child up after his mother had just put him to bed. And in such a tiny house, it would be difficult. There was only one floor, but thankfully it had a full bedroom, a full kitchen and bathroom and a small nursery. Nell had done very well to find this house nestled in such a fine village. Her child was already six years old, meaning she must have been in the house for nearly seven years now.
She couldn't very well receive her guest in the doorway, she'd have to lead him into the kitchen where they could sit by the fire and sip tea. But doing so required them to pass her son's door! He had the best hearing of anyone in the village, even if he was in a deep sleep, chances were the sound of footsteps would stir him. She was lucky he hadn't already woken. Maybe the day had really worn him out.
"Hold on one second," She whispered, sneaking on her tip toes to the boy's door. She peered into the cramped room, catching sight of a little body tucked under a heavy blue and pink blanket, his mop of red-blond hair all that was visible. No stirring, just the slow, steady rise and fall under the blanket. She smiled, taking a hold of the door and sliding it almost shut. Long ago, her boy had been rough housing and knocked his little head on the door knob. Ever since then, he couldn't be trusted not to run into them, they had to go. That also meant she couldn't close his door, he'd never be able to figure out how to open it.
Relieved that she would have the night to speak with her friend, she made her way back to the door and to the older gentleman standing there still. She apologized for the wait, quickly-but as needed-quietly back into the house, into the kitchen. There, the pair sat and drank tea by the fire and spoke of all things happening in the village. Nothing much ever happened there. Nell was the most interesting thing in the small community.
Seven years ago, she had happened upon the town at the age of seventeen. The townspeople had taken pity on her. After running from away from home, the girl had obviously wound up in trouble. Entering the village, beaten and robbed, an older woman had taken her into her home. Bunny took care of the girl, gave her some much needed parenting, found her a job in the local bakery. And when Nell had found out that not only did her attacker take her money, but also impregnated her, Bunny had counseled her, was there for her. She was even there for the birth of her precious little boy. She was there for the colic, the sickness, the diaper changes, everything.
It was a sad day when that woman left her. She was the only mother Nell had ever known. But she was human, and all humans died, no matter what lives they lived and no matter who they helped. She left Nell and her son. She even left her own husband, Charles. He and Nell still got along, they still spoke. They still had their nights of drinking tea and sitting by the fire. Tonight was one of those calm, peaceful nights. Two months had passed since Bunny left their family. She knew Charles was having difficulty with the change. That was why these nights were so important. But they would have to come to a close. She couldn't keep the old man up all night with talk of how cute her son was, how much of a handful he could be. It was getting to be time for bed. It was time to see her guest out.
Charles, walking slowly to the door with his aches and pains, whispered to the young lady how nice it was to still see her, how she and her boy made him feel less old. Nell couldn't help but feel affection for the old man. He was more a father to her than her real father. She leaned over, giving the man a kiss on the cheek.
"You're always welcome here, you know that. Without you, he wouldn't have a male influence in his life. I'm so grateful." It was a little cheesey, in any other situation, she thought. But not to this man, this kind man with the patience of a saint. He laughed, or giggled, suddenly feeling bashful. He wanted to say goodnight to the child, but he had already been asleep for two hours now! Boy what a chat they had. He said his goodbyes and staggered back to his own home for the night.
Nell stretched and sat in the doorway of her home, savoring the night air. It was so peaceful. If she didn't have a bed waiting for her in her own room, she wouldn't hesitate to lie down in the soft, sweet smelling grass and sleep there for the night. Hah, wouldn't that get a few looks? She was always the wild type though. She thought nothing of sleeping out doors, thought nothing of the looks and whispers aimed at her for being a single mom. She had never asked for a baby, but knowing life without her little angel, she probably would have.
Minutes rolled by, the peace not stirring for ages. The woman began dozing off on her doorstep, until an animalistic screech reached her ears. Her green eyes snapped open, searching the area for the owner of such a noise. But there was nothing. No, not nothing. There was something, she just couldn't see it. She could feel it. The sudden change in the atmosphere, the sudden silence that often haunted the village before a violent storm.
She stood, eyes on the path that lead into town, to the bridge. The noise had definitely come from there. That noise that repeated itself, hurt her ears. There was a sudden panic washing over her. She had never panicked before in her life. Why now? Her breathing became rapid, she even felt a shake in her heart. Something was wrong. The noises grew. She knew what that was now, it was a horse and other livestock crying out. How she could identify it was a mystery to her, she had never heard any of those normally calm animals screech out as if someone was hurting them. An orange glow began spreading from house to house in the distance, lighting up the village. She could see things clearer now. There were people running the streets. But they were not her neighbors. These were disgusting, dirty, large men. They reminded her of the man who attacked her all those years ago. Her heart skipped a beat. They were burning the village!
With a silent scream, she threw herself into the house, slamming the door shut and pressing her body against it. The noises, the screams of animals and now villagers grew ever louder. She had no weapon to fend them off.
"Mommy..." A tired voice came from below. Her baby, her little baby boy was standing, wiping the sleep from his blind eyes. "Mommy, whats that noise?"
She couldn't think properly. The village was under attack, those men were coming closer. God only knew what they wanted! What sort of man went to houses just to destroy them!? What did they want!? They weren't just closer now, they were at the door, she could hear their voices on the other side, she could feel them banging on the door.
"Wooley, hide!" She cried out, reaching out for the boy, turning him around and pressing her hand against his tiny back. He had heard the men as well, and that little push from his mother sent him running to the kitchen. A crash sounded next to him, the noise surprising him, glass sprinkling down next to him. He gave a yelp, racing over the glass anyway. It stung his feet terribly. He wanted to go back to his mother and ask her to make his booboo all better. But the crashes, the noise didn't stop at neighbors and animals and windows. He heard the door being pounded on. He wanted so desperately to know what was happening, what he had woken up to.
The house was still small, but to a six year old, it felt huge. And to a blind six year old, it was large and sometimes a little scary. Especially when his mom and uncle had been moving the kitchen furniture around again! In his running to find a hiding place, he didn't bump into the chair that was always there, instead, his head connected with the rim of the table sharply, sending him down to the ground with a cry. Tonight was terrible. He wanted his mom more now! His head hurt! Tears sprung at the corners of his eyes, but he wiped them away as best he could, hiccuping. But even with the pain, he couldn't forget his mother's instructions. He had to hide. He had to hide now! For now, he could hear those foreign voices inside the house, no longer safely behind the door. He scooted himself under the table, covering his ears and curling himself up.
His mother was arguing with these men. Arguing or just yelling? He couldn't tell. They weren't yelling back. They were laughing at her. What was happening? Who were these people?! He heard more footsteps, his mother's voice become less strong. Then.. then.. a cry? What had happened?! He raised his head and uncovered his ears, hoping for some sign of.. anything! But all he heard now was a loud thump against the floor, then silence. Silence, if not for the sound of fires roaring inside and on the house walls now. The heat grew.
His breath hitched up in his throat. He opened his mouth to ask for his mom, ask her to come to him and make his sore head and his bleeding feet better. But no words came out. He was terrified. But he still wanted his mom. He couldn't hear the men anymore, maybe they left? He would risk it and crawl his way out from under the table. But with revealing himself, no sooner did he feel a man's hands on him, lifting him from the floor. It sent him into a wild frenzy. He kicked, he swung at, he screamed for his mother. It did him no good, however.
"She's dead, boy!" The man holding him cackled. Another man hissed softly, mumbling something Wooley couldn't hear. Wooley couldn't believe it. His mom?
A weak, strangled choke came from below. "Wooley..." She wasn't dead! He knew she wasn't dead!
"Mommy!" He didn't hesitate to call out to her, finding the strength to struggle in the man's arms again. He soon wiggled his way out of the man's grasp, falling to the floor. He crawled into his mother's arms. He hadn't seen her, but hearing her, he had no problem in finding the dying woman. "Mommy." He cried again, tears deciding to reappear. Warm, liquid something pooled from his mother's stomach and seeped onto his shirt. It made him cry harder. He couldn't lose his mom!
The moment was destroyed, before Nell could tell her boy her goodbyes, tell him all her dying wishes, he was yanked from her and into the arms of the burly man again. "How much can we get for the boy?" Grumbled one of the men, barely making his voice heard over the wailing of the blind boy. Before long, they couldn't stand to hear his cries any more and took it upon themselves to knock him over the head. A black world becoming ever darker as consciousness left him.
"He's already in bed."
"Of course, little boys need their sleep."
Their voices were hushed. And with good reason. It was after eight thirty! Such a late hour, the pair didn't want to wake the child up after his mother had just put him to bed. And in such a tiny house, it would be difficult. There was only one floor, but thankfully it had a full bedroom, a full kitchen and bathroom and a small nursery. Nell had done very well to find this house nestled in such a fine village. Her child was already six years old, meaning she must have been in the house for nearly seven years now.
She couldn't very well receive her guest in the doorway, she'd have to lead him into the kitchen where they could sit by the fire and sip tea. But doing so required them to pass her son's door! He had the best hearing of anyone in the village, even if he was in a deep sleep, chances were the sound of footsteps would stir him. She was lucky he hadn't already woken. Maybe the day had really worn him out.
"Hold on one second," She whispered, sneaking on her tip toes to the boy's door. She peered into the cramped room, catching sight of a little body tucked under a heavy blue and pink blanket, his mop of red-blond hair all that was visible. No stirring, just the slow, steady rise and fall under the blanket. She smiled, taking a hold of the door and sliding it almost shut. Long ago, her boy had been rough housing and knocked his little head on the door knob. Ever since then, he couldn't be trusted not to run into them, they had to go. That also meant she couldn't close his door, he'd never be able to figure out how to open it.
Relieved that she would have the night to speak with her friend, she made her way back to the door and to the older gentleman standing there still. She apologized for the wait, quickly-but as needed-quietly back into the house, into the kitchen. There, the pair sat and drank tea by the fire and spoke of all things happening in the village. Nothing much ever happened there. Nell was the most interesting thing in the small community.
Seven years ago, she had happened upon the town at the age of seventeen. The townspeople had taken pity on her. After running from away from home, the girl had obviously wound up in trouble. Entering the village, beaten and robbed, an older woman had taken her into her home. Bunny took care of the girl, gave her some much needed parenting, found her a job in the local bakery. And when Nell had found out that not only did her attacker take her money, but also impregnated her, Bunny had counseled her, was there for her. She was even there for the birth of her precious little boy. She was there for the colic, the sickness, the diaper changes, everything.
It was a sad day when that woman left her. She was the only mother Nell had ever known. But she was human, and all humans died, no matter what lives they lived and no matter who they helped. She left Nell and her son. She even left her own husband, Charles. He and Nell still got along, they still spoke. They still had their nights of drinking tea and sitting by the fire. Tonight was one of those calm, peaceful nights. Two months had passed since Bunny left their family. She knew Charles was having difficulty with the change. That was why these nights were so important. But they would have to come to a close. She couldn't keep the old man up all night with talk of how cute her son was, how much of a handful he could be. It was getting to be time for bed. It was time to see her guest out.
Charles, walking slowly to the door with his aches and pains, whispered to the young lady how nice it was to still see her, how she and her boy made him feel less old. Nell couldn't help but feel affection for the old man. He was more a father to her than her real father. She leaned over, giving the man a kiss on the cheek.
"You're always welcome here, you know that. Without you, he wouldn't have a male influence in his life. I'm so grateful." It was a little cheesey, in any other situation, she thought. But not to this man, this kind man with the patience of a saint. He laughed, or giggled, suddenly feeling bashful. He wanted to say goodnight to the child, but he had already been asleep for two hours now! Boy what a chat they had. He said his goodbyes and staggered back to his own home for the night.
Nell stretched and sat in the doorway of her home, savoring the night air. It was so peaceful. If she didn't have a bed waiting for her in her own room, she wouldn't hesitate to lie down in the soft, sweet smelling grass and sleep there for the night. Hah, wouldn't that get a few looks? She was always the wild type though. She thought nothing of sleeping out doors, thought nothing of the looks and whispers aimed at her for being a single mom. She had never asked for a baby, but knowing life without her little angel, she probably would have.
Minutes rolled by, the peace not stirring for ages. The woman began dozing off on her doorstep, until an animalistic screech reached her ears. Her green eyes snapped open, searching the area for the owner of such a noise. But there was nothing. No, not nothing. There was something, she just couldn't see it. She could feel it. The sudden change in the atmosphere, the sudden silence that often haunted the village before a violent storm.
She stood, eyes on the path that lead into town, to the bridge. The noise had definitely come from there. That noise that repeated itself, hurt her ears. There was a sudden panic washing over her. She had never panicked before in her life. Why now? Her breathing became rapid, she even felt a shake in her heart. Something was wrong. The noises grew. She knew what that was now, it was a horse and other livestock crying out. How she could identify it was a mystery to her, she had never heard any of those normally calm animals screech out as if someone was hurting them. An orange glow began spreading from house to house in the distance, lighting up the village. She could see things clearer now. There were people running the streets. But they were not her neighbors. These were disgusting, dirty, large men. They reminded her of the man who attacked her all those years ago. Her heart skipped a beat. They were burning the village!
With a silent scream, she threw herself into the house, slamming the door shut and pressing her body against it. The noises, the screams of animals and now villagers grew ever louder. She had no weapon to fend them off.
"Mommy..." A tired voice came from below. Her baby, her little baby boy was standing, wiping the sleep from his blind eyes. "Mommy, whats that noise?"
She couldn't think properly. The village was under attack, those men were coming closer. God only knew what they wanted! What sort of man went to houses just to destroy them!? What did they want!? They weren't just closer now, they were at the door, she could hear their voices on the other side, she could feel them banging on the door.
"Wooley, hide!" She cried out, reaching out for the boy, turning him around and pressing her hand against his tiny back. He had heard the men as well, and that little push from his mother sent him running to the kitchen. A crash sounded next to him, the noise surprising him, glass sprinkling down next to him. He gave a yelp, racing over the glass anyway. It stung his feet terribly. He wanted to go back to his mother and ask her to make his booboo all better. But the crashes, the noise didn't stop at neighbors and animals and windows. He heard the door being pounded on. He wanted so desperately to know what was happening, what he had woken up to.
The house was still small, but to a six year old, it felt huge. And to a blind six year old, it was large and sometimes a little scary. Especially when his mom and uncle had been moving the kitchen furniture around again! In his running to find a hiding place, he didn't bump into the chair that was always there, instead, his head connected with the rim of the table sharply, sending him down to the ground with a cry. Tonight was terrible. He wanted his mom more now! His head hurt! Tears sprung at the corners of his eyes, but he wiped them away as best he could, hiccuping. But even with the pain, he couldn't forget his mother's instructions. He had to hide. He had to hide now! For now, he could hear those foreign voices inside the house, no longer safely behind the door. He scooted himself under the table, covering his ears and curling himself up.
His mother was arguing with these men. Arguing or just yelling? He couldn't tell. They weren't yelling back. They were laughing at her. What was happening? Who were these people?! He heard more footsteps, his mother's voice become less strong. Then.. then.. a cry? What had happened?! He raised his head and uncovered his ears, hoping for some sign of.. anything! But all he heard now was a loud thump against the floor, then silence. Silence, if not for the sound of fires roaring inside and on the house walls now. The heat grew.
His breath hitched up in his throat. He opened his mouth to ask for his mom, ask her to come to him and make his sore head and his bleeding feet better. But no words came out. He was terrified. But he still wanted his mom. He couldn't hear the men anymore, maybe they left? He would risk it and crawl his way out from under the table. But with revealing himself, no sooner did he feel a man's hands on him, lifting him from the floor. It sent him into a wild frenzy. He kicked, he swung at, he screamed for his mother. It did him no good, however.
"She's dead, boy!" The man holding him cackled. Another man hissed softly, mumbling something Wooley couldn't hear. Wooley couldn't believe it. His mom?
A weak, strangled choke came from below. "Wooley..." She wasn't dead! He knew she wasn't dead!
"Mommy!" He didn't hesitate to call out to her, finding the strength to struggle in the man's arms again. He soon wiggled his way out of the man's grasp, falling to the floor. He crawled into his mother's arms. He hadn't seen her, but hearing her, he had no problem in finding the dying woman. "Mommy." He cried again, tears deciding to reappear. Warm, liquid something pooled from his mother's stomach and seeped onto his shirt. It made him cry harder. He couldn't lose his mom!
The moment was destroyed, before Nell could tell her boy her goodbyes, tell him all her dying wishes, he was yanked from her and into the arms of the burly man again. "How much can we get for the boy?" Grumbled one of the men, barely making his voice heard over the wailing of the blind boy. Before long, they couldn't stand to hear his cries any more and took it upon themselves to knock him over the head. A black world becoming ever darker as consciousness left him.