One: And It All Went up in Flames

 WARNING! THIS CHAPTER HAS VERY EXPLICIT THEMES. IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THEMES SUCH AS CHILD ABUSE AND MURDER PLEASE DO NOT READ OR SKIP OVER THOSE PARTS NEED BE. PLEASE NOTE THAT CHARACTER'S OPINIONS AND VALUES ARE NOT MY OWN. I AM SIMPLY A WRITER THAT LIKES TO TELL STORIES ABOUT THE UNDERDOGS OF SOCIETY. I ENJOY GIVEN VOICES TO CHARACTER'S DIFFERENT THAN MYSELF.
Thanks,
Brianna aka, Bria

"Oh....oh god. Oh my fucking god!" Gavin dropped the hunting rifle at his feet and stared at the body that laid before him. Tiny beaded tears formed in his eyes as took in the rancid stench of blood, death, liquor, and cigarette buds that engulfed the tiny living room of the trailer. The woman's eyes were wide open, a vague expressionless blue that mirrored Gavin's a she laid slumped over on the couch, motionless and covered in gunshot wounds and blood. Above her stood Logan, a young boy, barely seventeen. His face was smeared in blood, tears pouring from his eyes. He clenched on Ruggle tightly, an old childhood toy that he refused to get part with.

The room remained dead silent for a few minutes. Gavin took this time to assess the place. Shit. This dump was worse than it ever was. Crap everywhere, a dead half naked body, and his baby brother in a world of shock. Serves the bitch right though. He reminded himself. What kind of mother is she? Oh that's right a crappy one.

Anabel, their mother had always been abusive. When she was sober she hated their guts and would mentally taunt them with name calling with words such as "worthless bastard" and "piece of shit". When she was on a combination of heroin and meth it would be punches, stabs, and kicks. When she was drinking things would get really physical. Gavin was a man. He could take just about about anything. He had been for quite a while. Became one when he was eight and Logan was three. That was when their mother had started pining her frustrations on Logan too. At that moment there was no more crying, no more asking god why, no more woe is me. At that very moment he learned that that the only true power is will power. In society no one loves you. No one hand holds you. You make the difference.

The phone started to ring. Oh shit! Gavin thought to himself.

"I......I'll get it." Logan finally spoke. His voice was small and mousy. Childlike. Before Gavin could protest Logan had already answered the phone. Gavin could hear the crack in Logan's voice as he hung up the phone. "It's Macgulliver. She heard gunshots and called the police."

Gavin felt his blood boil. "Fucking nosy as neighbors! Logan throw some clothes on back a small bag of clothes for me and you. Get Ruggle. Its no longer safe here anymore. Were leaving tonight!" Logan ran to the back room throwing clothes every which way into the bags. Gavin began to panic. Taking an old rusty hammer from the tool box he broke open his mother's safe and stole her drug money. They would need for the route they were going.

Logan emerged from the back room. "Good come on. We need to go now."

"Okay" but before leaving Logan cut on the rusty old stove throwing anything on top of it he could. Running out the door behind his older brother. He only turned around once just to see the cursed thing go up in flames along with his mother inside.

The boys then ran on into the dawn, not stoping until reaching the train station.

"Where will you be going sir?" Asked the lady behind the counter.

"As far as this will take us."

The woman raised an eyebrow but didn't question as she gave them the tickets.

"Enjoy your ride"

And enjoy they did as they bought there way out of the hell which is Paradise Texas.