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The Long Haul: Chapter 1

--

Why did I talk to you that night. It was a bad night, why couldn't I have just been an ass and blown you off like I would normally have.

Maybe it's because I was someone who didn't look down at you, like some piece of trash.

I'm still a piece of trash.

You're my piece of trash.

--

--Liam--

"You get back here, boy." I heard him behind me, but I didn't turn around to give him the satisfaction of seeing my face. I was crying and I hated it. Whenever I got pent up, tears welled whether I was angry, elated or down in the dumps and Frank loved to see me cry. He loved to make fun at me at every opportunity so I wasn't about to give him one now.

I reached the kitchen, if it could be called that. It was more like a hall way that someone decided to turn into a kitchen. It was narrow with a stained wall that would have been white when it was first put up on one side and the appliances and countertops on the other side. It was all dirty and smelled like stale and rotted food.

I wasn't interested in the smell or the food. I was making my way towards the screen door that had a rip across its bottom when a family of raccoons had decided to get clever one night.

"Don't you dare go out that door." He was close this time. He had finally decided to get out of that old, smelly pit of a couch he had planted in the living room and only left to take a piss. Grabbing his own beer was out of the question. "I won't tell you again."

He wouldn't tell me again because I wasn't going to let him.

A sudden rush of both anxiety at the sudden sound of his foot steps right behind me, loud as he stomped around the corner into the kitchen and adrenaline got me to make the last few feet to the door a sprint.

My paw shoved the flimsy plastic lever that would have opened the door if it still worked. I leapt down the few rotted steps that led out into the junk pit back yard we had.

"Come back here, Liam." Frank hissed and I finally looked back as I rounded a hollowed out and stripped washing machine that was half buried in the ground.

There he was Frank Moley, that fucking fat ass tabby raising his fist up, precious beer bottle still in his grip as he flung curses and all kinds of slurred, drunken rants in my direction. I only managed to catch, "And never come back!" As I ran off into the woods behind the shack that I hated to call home.

I only stopped running once I couldn't here Frank anymore. He would either get too tired and go back inside or his beer would run out. Whatever came first.

Catching my breath, I finally wiped away the tears that had been matting the fur on my face, most likely smearing the white fur that enveloped my ear and right eye with the rest of my black fur. I hated having two contrasting fur colors, especially since the colors clashed at all the wrong spots. My face where there was just a large spot that took up my entire upper right side of my head, my chest tuft was white and led a spotted trail down my abdomen where it even enveloped my entire groin. I felt like I was designed in one of those cheap paint programs by some kindergartener.

"Fucking fat ass." I clenched my fist and looked around. I knew these woods like the back of my hand. It was my escape, even now in the middle of the night. Frank never left the house and wouldn't waste his time going after me here since his night vision was more on par with a human's which was pitiful.

My eyes had time to adjust as I spun around in a circle to get my bearings. I hadn't gone that far in. I could still see the lights from town and I could hear Wilson's Creek nearby that went to town upstream and into a cave the other way. I didn't want to be bothered by anyone.

Following my ears, I quickly found the creek, more like some trickle of a stream. There were no fish here since the water only ever reached ankle height unless there as a decent rain storm that passed over. Then the woods would just flood and the fire department would come in to do whatever they did. I never watched since I hated getting wet, being a cat and all.

Sticking just far enough off to the side of the creek that I wouldn't accidentally step in a mud puddle, the old sneakers from Payless were my only ones that weren't falling apart, I followed the creek.

It was late, close to midnight, but there the woods never went to sleep, not on a beautiful night like this. No clouds, partial moon hanging right by the horizon where it had just risen and only a light cooling breeze that ruffle my head fur, yeah it was a good night to be out for anyone or anything.

A squirrel, carrying a small acorn jumped from branch to branch above me. I watched it, keeping pace with it as it leapt to a new tree, its tail behind it like a brown fluffy streamer. There it stopped, clutching that acorn tightly with its small paws up to its chest and looked at me.

I looked back at it for a moment before it let out that machine-gun call of its, alerting any other squirrels nearby that there was a predator. Of course I wasn't a predator, but the thing didn't know that and it fouled my mood some.

"Guess not even the squirrels want me around." I left it behind, not glancing back at it again, fuming some more as the thoughts went back to Frank.

Frank was a good-for-nothing moocher that lived with me and my mom. As if the house wasn't small enough, now that overweight, problem on legs was there.

Technically he was dating my mom. I say technically because whatever is going on there is not dating and I had made the mistake of letting my opinion be known.

It started out like all of our fights did. We yelled at each other while my mom, a pure black short hair that was now graying at the edges would try and stop us.

I loved my mom. She raised me along with my father who I don't even remember. I was too young when he died. Anyways, she raised me pretty much by herself. She did her best to make sure I had everything I needed and that had been too much for her. She lost her job, money got tight and then this thing appeared with the promise of helping. No dice.

That was almost seven years ago and seven years is a long time for poison to take effect. My mom, still loving and caring, smokes, drinks, holds two part-time jobs and is really going down hill. I hated to see her like this so I tried to get Frank mad enough that he would move out.

No, the yelling turned into a real fight. No one got hurt, but by the time we were done throwing out punches, I had enough and just stormed out.

I wasn't worried that he told me never to come back, it wasn't his house. I would go back once he had time to settle, not for him, but for my mom. I hated the idea of leaving her with him.

I was fuming by the time I reached the end of the stream, a hole in the side of a granite cliff that had been carved out by this very stream over what I believed to be millions of years. Geology was never my strong point, or science in general, but I had read that over time, water easily carved through solid rock. It was amazing to think at times. I still had trouble believing that the Grand Canyon was formed by the Colorado River. That just seemed to preposterous to be true.

I ducked down since the roof of the cave was actually shorter than my five foot eight frame. I went back as far as my night vision allowed me to. I wasn't afraid or anything. I had gone back further with a flashlight. The creek went for a few hundred feet before the roof got too low for me to comfortably go back any farther.

Sometimes animals would come in here. I had come across snakes, raccoon, and even a fox once. The thing had growled at me and I gladly got out of the way for it to scurry off into the woods, most likely to harass Farmer Jerry's chickens or something. That man never stopped talking about losing chickens though he had more than he could count. So many that people in town were trying to figure out ways to get rid of them. There was a chicken wire fence, but they found ways to get out and end up in people's yards and shitting everywhere.

I sat down on a dry rock next to the creek and slipped off my shoes. I didn't like getting my whole body wet, but my toes were fine. The water was cold, really cold, it always was which was nice during the blazing summer months. It was almost fall now and school would be starting up in a week.

I both loved and hated school. It was an escape from Frank and my mom worked the same hours as school ran. I think she did that purposefully so she could spend more time with me by coming home right after I did. I loved her for that.

I hated it because school was so boring. Go to this class and learn about shit that I didn't care about or ever use. Why does Tom have ten watermelons? Who needs that many? Didn't make any sense to me. Most of the teachers were boring as well. The droned about how this person that's been dead for a long time did something important hundreds of years ago. Like I need to know that. Though there were interesting classes that taught interesting things, like my physical science class where I learned about water and how it could go through solid rock over the course of millions of years. That's interesting.

I guess I would be able to see some familiar faces as well, which was nice. I didn't really have friends, but I didn't have enemies either, except for Cindy. Bitch, literally.

Cindy was a Doberman, sleek fur and a very slim build that occasionally or rather frequently leaked her malice. She hated everyone that either she wasn't sleeping with or wasn't on her cheer squad. She hated me especially since I was poor. I guess simply existing in my state is enough to be ridiculed by her on a daily basis. It's as if Tom became a dog and less fat.

This new year would be interesting to say the least and there was nothing I could do to stop it from starting. I guess that it's already started for some, football began almost a month ago and occasionally on that rare occurrence that I found myself down by the school, I would see them practicing. Big lugs smashing into each other with enough force that it made my teeth rattle. Made me glad that the football team didn't really mess with anyone ever since some incident a few years back where a student almost died due to bullying. The Coach, a massive bear is always nearby when the football players are around, making sure nothing ever happened again. It was good for me because I'm sure most of them know me, dating Cindy and all.

Thinking about school helped me calm down, kept my mind off of Frank. Every time I thought of him, it just got me so riled up. The only thing that kept me from really hurting him whenever I came home to find him on the couch passed out, vulnerable, was that he didn't touch my mom. He never struck her or anything, only if he didn't sleep with her. I guess that even fat fucks had some standards.

Once I graduated, I wanted to get a job, a good paying job so that we wouldn't need him anymore. Even though he didn't really leave the house much, when he did, the money he brought back did help. I worked as well, when I could during the summer, taking odd jobs here and there, but with school starting, we would be even more reliant on what income he brought in. Once I did get a better job, I'm going to myself and my mom out of that shack and some place where we wouldn't have to worry anymore. For my mom, she deserved to never have to work another day in her life.

It was nearly an hour before I decided that Frank would probably be asleep. He never lasted that long past midnight since all of his shows were on during the evenings and he hated reruns.

I pulled my toes, a little numb from sitting in the cold water for so long, out of the water and rubbed the blood back into them. Then I slipped them back into my shoes. I got up slowly, using the wall as support and began heading out.

I was tired, it had been a long stressful day for me. Everyday was stressful to some extent and I needed my energy back to deal with whatever the next... Er... This day would hold for me. I was so tired in fact that I almost didn't notice the figure at the entrance to the cave.