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when it was never end

Summary

He had seen it in the movies. Read them in books. Pained nightmares from it. He was told, 'Everything is okay, it's not real.' But when it turned into his reality, the proof was beyond flooding. It was all there. Since the world had come to an end, it never seemed as if he did unspeakable things-knowing he had to survive and fight now. When finding a group who is a bit more shaken up than he is, he learns they're friendly. More or less. So he pondered, is this my new family? Or will he have to do the unspeakable again? ao3: ilikeauggie

Genre:
Adventure / Thriller
Author:
aug
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
1
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
16+

in words of looking back, you don't

A small boy with teary eyes laid loosely on a medical bed.

Medical doctors surrounded him with instruments in a few hands.

Gauze. Bandages. Tape. Stitches. Thread. Tweezers. Cotton balls. Scissors. Alcohol.

“Relationship to the patient?” The front desk male typed in the informational computer. “Grandparents.” The grandmother stated. Instantly placing the new information in the records, the man, Caleb, asked, “Are the parents present?” The grandparents seemed to deflate and grimace, “His parents passed near his birth.”

Not expecting it-Caleb apologized where he was forgiven. The boy’s parents had passed actually before his birth unknowingly. During the mother’s autopsy it was then learned she was pregnant. Only a miracle was the only answer for how the boy survived.

When he was delivered through a dead corpse, the child was strictly placed under 24/7 supervision. In any odd reason his heart would race, shooting dangerously high to almost instantly slowing down, on the brink of death. But when monitored while it happened, the boy’s mood or behavior never changed. Not to discomfort or sadness or anger.

He was calm and quiet.

Somehow the media was able to get a hold on the kid’s odd condition, blowing it up in every street corner. For this same boy to be in the hospital again, most doctors remembered on the ′calm boy’.

This time he was crying, in pain and fear. Attempting to recall the events that led him here were simple. He played outside in his backyard until a wild dog managed to slip through one of the broken fences, attacking him. The dog didn’t aim for his neck, legs, or arms, but his ear.

It was the only day he had his hair pushed behind his ears, ironically.

The wild, yet strong dog managed to chew off his whole helix area on the right. In the doctor’s view, the dog had a struggle to take the bite leading it to be messy. Clearly visible bumpy ridges and scratches proved it. The boy fought back.

Feeling the dog’s teeth pierce his skin, he screamed loud enough for everyone in his house to hear. Maybe the neighbor’s too. His grandparents from his mother’s side was taking care of him and found their daughter’s son trying to get the dog to release.

While the grandmother called 911 and animal control, the grandfather got pepper spray- warning his boy to cover his eyes until he said other wise. Once the dog let go, the parents quickly took him inside and tried to control the bleeding.

Surprising everyone, when animal control came by, the boy begged them not to kill or hurt the dog. When asked ‘why’ he stated: “The dog was just trying to protect themselves! They probably felt scared! So you can’t hurt or kill them! Please!”

Thankfully the workers respected the kid’s wishes while he was driven away in the ambulance. Now here in this hospital on the medical bed.

“What’s your name little man?” The doctor, who was inspecting the nasty wound, asked- trying to get the kid’s mind off somewhere else. “Ah- Anakin Lou- Lougthy. You?” It wasn’t his rare name that caught the doctor off guard, but the question for his name did. “My name’s Victor Salem. Can you tell me how old you are Anakin?” Victor dabbed some alcohol on the larger parts of Anakin’s ear.

It caused him to tense and squirm slightly, “Eight.” ‘How young.’ Victor saddened. “People say eight is the magic number.” Victor tried to lighten to mood. A moment of just gauze and alcohol moving around went by, “Mine’s not that lucky..” Anakin pouted.

“Don’t worry, buddy. You can always make your own.” Victor spoke softly, watching his co-workers finish wrapping and taping up the bandages of the child’s ear. “Okay, thank you everyone.” Anakin told everyone who helped. “You’re very welcome my boy.” A doctor said while the others nodded before leaving.

“I’ll be right back Anakin, okay?” Victor reminded the boy who was now yawning and trying to keep his eyes open. “Okay.” He slurred. Good enough. Victor walked out the room and into the waiting rooms where two elders stood up at the sight of him.

“Anakin Lougthy’s parents?” “Grandparents.” The grandfather corrected. “How is he?” The grandmother held pleading-almost begging- eyes. She was always so protective of Anakin. Taught him to respect women and all people. Taught him to listen when people said ‘stop’. It seemed a bit rough to teach with a blind meaning for now, but they wanted too.

Anakin’s mother was a victim of rape.

His mother was scared, but wanted to keep the baby. Even if now, she was no longer here.

“He’s doing fine. A scar will be where the missing chunk of his ear is but once it’s fully healed it should not cause him discomfort. We will assign him an ear shield to avoid him sleeping on it and debris.”

The grandparents sighed in relief, “Will he be able to come home tonight?” Victor internally grumbled, “No, he will not. To be safe, we will have him stay overnight to check how he sleeps and maybe be able to speed the healing process in general.”

“Is that alright?” Victor was cautious to ask that. “Anything to help him is okay. Thank you.” Both thanked and smiled. Soundly asleep off his damaged ear, Anakin was at peace. For that moment.


“Grand-momma?” Anakin’s small voice echoed through the small bathroom where he stood in front of the mirror. His moss cat-like eyes went down to the mole on his left cheek, right below his eye. Grandmother appeared behind him within moments, “Yes my dear?” Her soft voice always cheered him up.

He carefully ran his fingers through his long white hair. White hair had been running through the family for a few years now making Anakin’s white with small strands of grey hair natural. “Does me being a boy make having long hair weird?” He looked away already feeling the embarrassment fill him up.

Grand-momma sighed, but smiled. “It’s not weird at all Anakin.” She began to comb through his hair with a wide toothed. “It’s not?” He perked up a bit-happy. She shook her head, “Your momma has short hair and she’s a woman.”

Grand-momma used the terms as if she were still here, just so Anakin won’t feel that down.

“Sometimes I wish I could hold Momma.” Anakin gently wrapped his arms around himself and nuzzling into them as if it was his mother hugging him. “Maybe she’d squeeze you too hard!” Grand-papa said playfully and lifted the boy in the air, tickling him in the process.

His laugh made him smile; showing the adorable gap in his front teeth.


About to hit nine, Anakin liked learning more things other kids his age wouldn’t.. more like shouldn’t.

Take pickpocketing as an example.

Side learns were building, repairing, and creating things from scratch; as well as flicking a pen around his fingers. It kept him from getting bored-which he was a lot. Went to shops that sell parts and pieces of broken watches, compasses, phones, and just about anything.

Since not knowing his parents, both sides of grandparents gave stories and items. On his father’s side, his grandparents gave a compass.

The story behind it was the father leaned more on the hunting side, letting himself always get lost. That was where the compass came in. When he passed, it was recovered from his body and given back to the family.

On his mother’s side, they only gave him stories. Even if the mother was a victim of rape-making Anakin the result-his ‘father’ isn’t his father. Meaning the father who cherished the compass isn’t the rapist, but helped Anakin’s mother with her pregnancy.

Regarding on testing his pickpocketing skills, Anakin would ‘steal’ from his grandparents. By ‘steal’ he would take them and then show them as a party trick.

It was nice. All the grandparents were beyond nice. Everything was okay.


Everything was nothing from okay.

Fresh turned of nine years old, Anakin was sleeping on his bed. It was fluffed and full of comforters, pillows, and stuffed animals. Him laying on it made him sink into the clouds. His bedroom window rattled from an explosion a bit farther from his house. Being a light sleeper, the bed creaked as he shifted his weight towards the edge of the bed, standing up.

Anakin groaned slightly-rubbing his eyes gently. The window began to rattle more, but this time the next explosion made the house shake. “Ah!” He caught his balance by his desk. Having to check on his grandparents, the boy grabbed a jacket hanging on his bed railing and went out his bedroom quietly, yet quickly. His grandparents on both sides took turns to take care of Anakin, just so he got the best of both sides of the family.

It was his father’s side’s turn.

Turning open his wood door whined and the planks under the boy’s feet continued to creak. “Grand-momma?” His voice whispered, poking his head out to the cold living room. Nothing. He moved forwards, now with his whole body in the living room. Yet he still hunched his back as if he was getting ready to run back in his room. “Grand-papa?” Clatter came from the dining room.

Curse his big hearted curious self.

Quietly tiptoed into the kitchen, preparing for what he would see or not see.

But this-no one could ever prepare themselves- he froze. Little gasps cut off from his lips as he watched the horrific scene.

Grand-momma was on the floor, sprawled out, while Grand-papa was hunched over her, digging into her stomach. He pulled out a strong of intestines before chomping it down, some parts falling on the ground. Blood oozed and stained the indents from the tilted ground. Her eyes were open, yet milky. Her mouth was hanged wide as if she attempted to scream.

Anakin thought fast and quietly left back to his room, locking the door. Suddenly his breathing picked up and turned heavy, almost panting. One hand was on the wall to support his balance with the other clenching his shirt in desperate need to calm down.

How on earth will a nine year old calm down from his Grand-papa eating his Grand-momma?

“Okay breathe-jus-breathe.” He muttered to himself still holding his chest. Deep breath in and deep breath out. Soft shuffling started to grow louder right outside Anakin’s bedroom door. He stopped breathing. Anakin realized he couldn’t stay here.

He realized that his grandparents may be with his parents now.

Began to mentally list the things he may need for survival-but the cracking of his door stopped it. “AH-!” He yelped out, seeing his Grand-papa barging into the once locked and stable door.

Weapon.

“Get a weapon.”

The voice said. Reacting, Anakin moved backwards, not turning his back, and grabbed a pallet knife from his desk. “I-I’m sorry Grand-papa!” He whimpered before plunging the knife into his Grandfather’s head. The blood had squirted back at the boy onto his face and locks of hair.

Then the Grandfather collapsed.

His body reacted first and began to pack things he would need-still gasping from the action he executed.

A hiking bag from his mother’s parents bought was his choice of carriage. It had two small side pockets and one large pocket in the front. The main was a string set-up with a flap over it. In it’s choice to secure, all the pockets were closed by a piece of leather belts.

Anakin stumbled constantly from wiping the tears and blood off to avoid stepping on his dead Grandfather to packing and getting out of here. He was already wearing pajama pants and a long sleeve due to the weather at night. The jacket he’s still wearing is pretty thick as it is-and sort of long and big for him. He himself isn’t a doctor much, but he learned how to bandage and sorts.

He tossed a medical kit inside.

Food. Water.

Anakin grabbed some shoes that were usually comfortable to run in for long periods of time. And he had an aching feeling, it would be a while.

Figuring to get canned, the boy looked away at his dead Grandmother and went to the pantry. It was full on canned food. ‘I can only take what I can carry. Running with too much will slow me down and start to hurt.’ The boy thought, deciding how he should play this. ‘I don’t eat much even now, but it can be a while.. Just play safe.’ He concluded on taking at least 25 cans.

It may seemed too much, but it was a pantry full.

The only reason they had so much canned food was if they didn’t have time to cook then Anakin could eat something from there. He guessed might as well use it now. Once he was satisfied on the weight of the cans in his backpack; he headed to the counter and grabbed 5 large water bottles.

‘If I die from taking food and water, I guess whoever loots my body can have some.’

He looked down at his father’s compass thinking, ‘Should I... take a knife?’ Anakin never got caught playing with knives, but once he wanted to use his pen tricks on something else, he had a knife to play around at all times.

How ironic.

Side glancing at the knife drawer, he gave in. Opening it, there, of course, was many different kinds; ranging from small to large. Play it safe, take the small one.

And so he did.

Now he needs to leave this house quickly. Jogged to the front door, not entirely ready to see what’s behind the door, he turned to look behind him-No. He planted his feet firmly and decided not to look back. He had turned the doorknob and pushed it open then closing it.

Closing a door, that may not ever open again.

Notes: Unlike my other story-Overwhelmed- this one may not get as many words in a chapter. Expect somewhat slow updates for both this story and Overwhelmed due to personal issues. This was just made to ease to the urge on creating a story with one of my favorite gameplays with an OC I created. Hope you enjoyed.

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