My life has never been particularly easy. I grew up in a dysfunctional family with an abusive, lazy, alcoholic father and a mother who worked nearly every hour of the day just to help us survive. For seven years I was cursed with living with a bastard who didn't care and a mother who could never be there. The occasional beatings from my alcoholic raged father didn't help much either. All of that might have been a little more bearable if I wasn't a fox; which, with all the specists today, made everything about ten times worse.
Luckily, when I was eight, my mother had finally had enough and gained enough courage to call the cops on my asshole father after he got done beating the both of us. He deservingly got locked up and is never aloud to come near me or my mother for the rest of our life's. After that it seemed like things might have started looking up for us, which at first it did. My mother didn't have to work as long since she no longer had to provide for my parasitic father. So she was able to spend more time with me, and for once in my young life I had been happy. I had a loving parent in my life that was actually able to be there for me. Unfortunately, that only lasted for about a year. After that, things went back to shit.
It had all started with a stupid little dream of mine where I wanted to be a junior ranger scout. I don't really know why I even wanted to. Maybe it was because I wanted to be apart of something, maybe I wanted to be apart of a pack of some sorts. I don't know for sure, but it was the only thing I wanted for weeks. Finally the time came for me to go to my first scout meeting, my mom had saved enough money to buy me a uniform and I was ready. I remember walking in with confidence, ready to make some friends, ready to be apart of something, even if I was going to be the only predator. It was then I got a harsh reality check about myself and my kind in general. Being a fox and predator made me an easy target at a young age for bullying, and it wasn't until that night that I learned how ruthless others, especially kids, could be.
Being shoved violently to the ground, being forcefully restrained by the others, then having a muzzle painfully shoved onto my face was an experience that would scar anyone, and something that would stay with me for the rest of my life. Something that sent me running out of that building crying my eyes out like a new born kit. I remember wondering if I had done something wrong and wanting to know if I somehow screwed everything up, but I came to realize that it was done all because I was a fox. I took away two important things from that night: I would never again show that anyone got to me, and if the world was only going to see a fox as shifty and untrustworthy, then why try to be anything else. And that's what set up the basis of my life for years to come. I've stood by those two things, even when it would have been better if I hadn't.
As the years passed by and I grew older, it only got worse and worse. The prejudices held against not only predators, but foxes specifically was unspeakable and down right despicable. Even other predators who faced prejudice themselves looked down on foxes like they were lesser animals. Everywhere I went others expected that I was going to steal something, that I was going to trick someone, lie, cheat; the list goes on and on. If I was holding something and a cop passed by me they always assumed I had stolen it. If I got a good grade everyone would suspect that I had cheated. I was always presumed guilty even if I didn't do anything. Some days I just wished that I could spend one day not being a fox, to not be met with thr everyday racial slurs directed at me, to actually be seen as just another animal. But it would never happen, I was doomed to live the life of a fox; so why not own it?
Some time during middle school I met another fox who would be my friend and my partner for the next few years. Finnick the fennec fox was someone who shared a similar problem with me: we were both foxes. Him being really short also didn't help him in any ways. We met when I was in sixth grade and he was in seventh and he helped me when a group of bullies had backed me against some lockers. I had been handling the situation fairly well, never breaking away from my 'cool guy who doesn't give a shit' facade that I wore all to well. During that, Finnick decided to step in and scare them off with a few detailed threats and finished by snarling at them. He may be short, but he sure as hell could put the scare in you.
He had made sure I was fine and was glad to hear that I was. That's the day when he told me us foxes had to stick together, or else the world was going to trample over us. There weren't many foxes in the city, us being a minority of a minority, so it was easy for our kind to just be looked over and seen as not really important. From that moment on, Finnick and I became great friends; or as good of friends one could get with him. He wasn't the friendliest of animals and has a very short fuse, but he seemed to treat me better than others so I considered us friends. It wasn't until a year after we met, though, that we became partners.
Money was still always tight with mom and I. Even after my father was joyously, forcefully removed from our lives, my mom could still barley make all the necessary payments and keep us fed. And as months passed by, I saw how tired she was. I saw the gray hairs forming around her face and the bags drooping under her eyes. She did so much for me and I felt like I needed to help her. Finnick was also in a similar situation, his family also being barley able to survive on their funds. So we, being Finnick and I, decided that we needed to make a few extra bucks for our families.
Though there are a lot of animals that don't trust foxes, there are still some that are dumb enough to fall for the simplest of scams. Finnick and myself would do an assortment of different things to rob people blind of there money. Our most common one being Finnick pretending to be my little brother. He'd dress like a little kit and then I'd give some animal a sappy sob story about how we needed money for food because we were homeless, and boom: easy money. It's amazing how pretending to suffer could make us so much cash.
After a hard day of work, we'd split the money half and half. On a good day we were usually making around 500 dollars, depending on how generous animals were feeling that day, which meant I'd take home around 250 dollars. We'd do that everyday and at the end of the week, I'd take half my earnings, put it in an envelope and put it in our mailbox. I kept it anonymous so that mom didn't know it was me, because I'm pretty sure she'd blow a fuse if she found out I had been doing this. Luckily she hasn't found out yet, and she still thinks it's some random animal being a good samaritan and helping out a family in need. She says that its a blessing for us, and it shows that there are good animals out there. Where as in reality it was me, because no one would ever think about helping out a family of foxes.
And that's been my life up to this point. I'd prefer if it wasn't as depressing and didn't make me feel like life wasn't worth living; but hey, beggars can't be choosers. And I figured that I might as well get used to it, because I had a feeling that I'd be living like this for a very long time. Or, at least that's what I thought.
Skip forward to the present and you could find me, a recently graduated Junior in High School, walking in the dark down a poorly lit sidewalk making my way home after a long day of working with Finnick. Fortunately, the light wasn't much of a problem due to my amazing night vision; that's one perk to being a fox I guess. I occasionally glanced from side to side, making sure that no one was trying to get behind me, or jump me. I didn't exactly live in the best part of the city, and between drunken bums and gangs you always had to be on the look out for potential danger at every corner. It wouldn't worry me as much if it didn't happen way to often.
Lucky for me I was able to make it back to my raggedy old home unharmed. I call the house raggedy, which it is I mean it was part of some of the first buildings ever built in Zootopia, but mom is able to keep it looking nice. I walked up the outer stairs, unlocked the door and went in to a darkened house, which was odd considering mom usually kept the lights on until I got home. But I didn't think much of it. I locked the door behind me and was about to go upstairs to my room when I heard my mom call me from the living room. I cocked my head, becoming a little confused. I looked down at my watch and verified to myself that it was indeed ten o'clock. Mom never stayed up this late, she went to sleep early because she had to wake up early for her job. Something was up.
I slowly crept my way over to the living room and peeked my head in seeing my mom sitting there reading one of her many books. She didn't really look mad but I couldn't really get any emotion off of her either, and I don't know which is worse. Mom is usually a very happy woman, even with everything she has been through. She never seemed to let any of that get to her, always pushing the hurtful words and stares away. She is one of my main inspirations, besides that dark night, that helped me to never let anyone see that they get to me. Though I may not wear a smile everywhere I go, I've never acted in rage against anyone nor have I given anyone else the pleasure of seeing me break down in tears. The point is that I rarely see her without a smile, no matter what she's doing.
I did know that look, actually. I had seen it on many occasions when dad was still tormenting us. It was a look of discontent and displeasure. She knew something and she didn't like it. Had there been a death in the family? I don't think dad has served his whole sentence in prison, and nothing else jumped into my mind that would cause her to be upset. Unless she lost her job, again. It's not that she isn't a good worker, because she's one of the hardest workers you'll ever meet. It just comes back to species. The last job she lost was because they had to let a few people go, and even though mom was one of their best, she was let go because she was a fox. Of course that's not how they would tell it, no one wanted to admit that they're speciest; but I knew better than to believe in their lies.
But I don't think losing her job was the problem either. One reason being that her boss was actually really kind to us, the owner actually being a predator and not someone who hated foxes. That, and I knew I'd see tears in her eyes if she had been fired or laid off. No, it had to be something else. And something told me I wasn't going to like it.
She must have sensed my presence because she looked up from her book and straight at me. Our eyes met for only a moment, but something about them made me shudder. Something had her really upset. Her gaze fell off from me back to her book as she pointed to a seat that was right next to her. Now I'm not scared of my mom, but she was really starting to freak me out. She was treating this like some sort of interrogation.
I slowly made my way over to the chair, being careful with every step I took thinking that if I made a wrong move, she would snap at me. It was deathly silent, the only sound being made was the old floor creaking under my steps. I sat myself down and waited patiently for her to speak. With every second she stayed silent my heart beat grew faster as I ran through all the different scenarios that could play out here. Eventually I came up with two options: either she was about to break some very bad news to me, or I was going to be in very deep shit. But being in trouble wasn't all that uncommon with me.
Though I may not get into fights in a physical way, since I'm much to small to take on someone like a rhino, I do tend to provoke violence. Using my silver tongue, I can easily manipulate a situation to my favor. For example, getting a bear to fight another asshole bear. It's amazing what you can do if you just say that someone's been messing with their girl. Usually I don't get caught, but there are a few occasions where I've been ratted out. And to say my mom was pissed to hear about these, well that would be a bit of an understatement. We had a long chat the night I was first caught about how manipulating people was a terrible thing to do, and that it gave a bad name to foxes. I'm just glad she hadn't figured out about mine and Finnicks little jobs.
After what seemed to be like an eternity, mom finally set down her book. She still didn't look my way though, trying to avoid my gaze for some reason. That's when I got the first bit of emotion from her, the look on her face was that of... disappointment? I gulped, only imagining what she was about to say.
She finally found me with her eyes and stared me down long and hard. So much discourage riddle in her emotions, I could almost feel it radiating off from her. With a little sigh, she finally began to talk.
"Nick, I know what you've been doing," she stated plainly, but the disappointment was there. I inwardly cringed at this, but I couldn't jump to conclusions about what she meant. I didn't want to self incriminate myself.
"What are you talking about?" I asked in confusion, playing stupid in hopes she'd buy it. Unfortunately for me, she did not.
"Don't give me that bull shit, Nickolas," She raised her voice, coming awfully close to yelling. I flinched, not used to mom being the one yelling. Talking to me sternly or scolding me, yah she does that all the time; but screaming was something that only dad would do.
She closed her eyes and composed herself, trying to keep herself from blowing up on me, which I am very glad for. There are many things that I hate, and being yelled at is up high on that list. Don't get me wrong, I can take getting yelled at. It's not very uncommon for foxes to get yelled at on the streets, a lot of the times for just being a fox. I will admit that I do deserve it at times, but it doesn't mean I like it. It tends to bring up bad memories of my dearest old father. It seems like yelling was his favorite thing to do besides getting wasted. If there wasn't a bottle shoved down his muzzle, he was screaming at me or mom to get him something to eat, then complaining about something that we couldn't control. I can hardly believe that I actually survived when he was living with us, and I can't begin to imagine the horrors mom went through with the guy.
She finally calmed herself down and began to talk with her normal calmness. "I saw you out there with your friend, Finnick. I saw how you scammed those poor animals out of their hard earned money," she cried out, starting to get emotional. I sat with my head drooped down, looking at the floor and avoiding her eyes at all costs. I hadn't seen her this upset in a long while, and knowing that I was the cause of it made it all the worse.
"How long..." she seethed, "how long have you been doing this for?"
I shuffled around and fidgeted with my paws, becoming increasingly nervous about her reaction to my impending answer. I had never seen my mom truly mad and I wished that I would never have to. But it seems that tonight may be the night her rage comes out.
"Nick," she warned, demanding for a straightforward answer.
"Since seventh grade," I mumbled out. I could feel her eyes shooting daggers at me.
"Please, don't be difficult, not right now," She pleaded.
"Since seventh grade," I said more clearly. I glanced up to see her reaction and saw her with closed eyes and a clenched jaw. Her paws had tightened into fists and her disappointment was replaced by anger. My ears laid flat against my head, not in shame though. I would never be sorry for scamming those animals out of their money. I could care less about them and their lives. If it took me pretending to be homeless and starving for someone to help me, then they deserved to lose that cash. No, I was mad that mom found out. I didn't want her to for this reason. I knew that it would upset her and I hated bringing her any sort of trouble because she already got enough of that when dad was around.
"How could you do this, Nick? I thought I raised you better then to be doing this," she sighed, her anger subsiding only to be replaced with sorrow. She looked at me as if I had betrayed her, like I had stabbed her in the back. "Foxes already get a bad name without you playing out to the stereotypes."
I shook my head, she just couldn't see it from my point of view. "I was just trying to help you out. You've been working so hard your entire life, and yet without my weekly donations we would have been evicted from this house and kicked to the streets a long time ago." I voiced. Mom may be a really hard and dedicated worker, but that didn't mean her salary was enough to sustain us. Ever since the landlord had increased our rent a few years ago, we had barley been able to make it by. If I hadn't started to do what I do, we wouldn't be living as comfortably as we are now. It seems from the look on her face that she hadn't quite pieced that part together.
"I-Its been you this entire time?" She asked in shock. I nodded my head. She sunk a little lower into her chair and I could see tears start to form in her eyes. I looked away ashamed that I was making her cry. It's not like I wanted for this to happen. I did this to help us, to create a better life for us.
"Please don't cry mom," I begged. "You know I only did this because I had to." I insisted to her, trying to get her to see that what I had done was justified. I didn't want all her hard work and suffering to be in vain. I wanted to help her, I did this in appreciation for what she does for me.
Her head snapped up and she gave me a deathly glare. "Don't you ever say that, Nick," she growled, "Don't you ever make the excuse that you 'had to'. Your father did the same thing you are doing and that was always his excuse." My eyes were wide and I sunk lower and lower into my chair the more she shouted at me. "There were plenty of other options for us that don't involve stealing. Then there are the consequences of it all. It's the reason I lost your father in the first place." After she said that, her mood changed and instead of looking angry she looked more tired. "I used to love him so much, and I knew he felt the same way for me. Then we started running low on money and he went behind my back and started doing the same thing you are. That's when the fox I fell in love with started to disappear. He began drinking more and more, becoming increasingly violent and eventually he turned into a whole other fox; someone I did not recognize," she gave out a hefty sigh and came back to normal, her rage subsiding and her sadness declining, now replaced with indifference.
"I don't want you to end up that way Nickolas, I don't want to turn into your father... I don't want to lose you like I did him."
"Mom, I promise you're not going to lose me. I'm nothing like him, I'm..." I didn't even get to finish before mom held up a paw telling me to stop talking. She lightly shook her head, which gave me an uneasy feeling that she was about to do something to me. Which wasn't far from the truth.
"Nick, I've known about this since Monday, and since them I've not only been trying to not only keep myself together, but also think of what I should do with you," she began to explain. So it's been six days that she's known about this, kind of surprised she hadn't given that away earlier. She usually isn't the best of liars.
As for the punishment, I wasn't to worried about it. She'd probably just ground me for a couple of weeks, try and keep me off the streets and away from Finnick. It would work for awhile, but the thing is she can't keep me locked up in here forever. I'll be back doing what I do eventually, and there isn't really any way she can stop me. There is always the possibility of her getting mad, but I'm just hoping that eventually she'll come around to the idea of this.
"I think being in the city, and growing up in this environment has just given off the wrong influences. I figure you need a little change of scenery, because I know how sweet and charming and good you really are. I know who you were before the scouts," I flinched a little at the mention of them. Still a scaring memory, even to this day. I can't help but have panic attacks every time I see a damn muzzle and I haven't walked by that building in years; if I have to pass it I walk on the opposite side of the street.
I didn't like where she was going with this. A change in scenery? What the hell is that supposed to mean. Where was she going to send me, Military School? I hope not. I've known some animals that have gone to those types of places and just come back completely changed. Its a bit depressing seeing someone you knew change so much, like their broken or a whole different person. I didn't want to end up like that.
"So, I contacted your Aunt Debra and have made some arrangements. I'm sending you to live with her and her family for the summer."
At first I didn't react, I tried to process what she just told me. Live with my Aunt for the rest of the summer? As the reality of it began to dawn on me, my eyes began to widen and my mouth fall open. Did she really just say that? Was she serious? I mean summers just began, we just started the break a week ago. Plus I had plans made up of everything I was going to do with Finnick and a few of my other friends. Then to top it all off, my Aunt lived in Bunnyburrows, a fricken place in the middle of nowhere overrun by rabbits.
I jumped to my feet and expressed this all to her. "You can't send me there, it's cruel and unusual punishment. Ground me, take away everything I own, starve me for all I care; just don't send me to redneck central," I begged of her. I could tell she was amused with herself, smiling smugly at me as she finally found the perfect punishment. Usually I would just brush this stuff off, but this was taking it to a whole new level.
"I guess you shouldn't have conned in the first place, then we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?" She stated. I tightened my jaw and clenched my fists tightly, becoming extremely aggravated. This wasn't supposed to happen, she was never supposed to find out. She was going to ruin everything.
"You can say goodbye to everyone tomorrow, but come Monday I'm driving you down there where you will stay until the week before school starts. Now go to your room."
I tried to argue with her and get her to change her mind, but she was standing firm with her decision. When I saw that there was nothing I could say that was going to change her mind, I gave up. I drooped my head and ears as I trudged out of the room and up the stairs. I can't believe she was doing this to me, taking me away from everything I know and shipping me to some hick town.
I got to my room, slammed my door shut, and flopped face first onto my bed. Anger and frustration flowed though me and I felt like punching a hole in my wall. I was angry at mom for doing this, at myself for not being more careful and getting caught, and at the world for forcing me to do this. I don't care what mom says, I had no choice but to do the things I've done. I bet she knows that, but with her good heart she doesn't want to admit that the only way for a fox to get ahead in this world is to do some illegal things.
I groaned at the thought of Finnick, and how pissed he was going to be that I couldn't help him this summer. This is the time where we make most of our money. Tourist season is starting and animals were going to come from all over the world to see Zootopia. It is the perfect time to hustle a good amount of animals for loads of money. Instead, though, I was going to be suffering in Bunnyburrows.
I've only been to the place once, but I was still a young kit and don't remember much about it. What I do remember was that it was a vast valley of fields and hills and a whole lot of nothing in-between. Then there's the things I've heard about it. Just about every animal except for rabbits were the minority. Obviously there were a couple of foxes since I have family down there; an Aunt, Uncle, and a few cousins. But I've heard just about everyone down there is a redneck, hick, or inbred. To say the least, I wasn't going to enjoy this.
I sighed and flipped over, grabbing my phone from my pocket. I decided it would be best to break the news to Finnick now rather then in person. Like I said, Finnick has a big temper, which is funny with how small he is. Anyway, I don't want to witness firstpaw his little tantrum he'd throw. This was going to set us back a ways, and we'd lose money. And it's not like we can't do it alone, it's just that it's not as effective as when we're together. Plus, there was this time where I got extremely sick and had to stay home, so Finnick tried doing it himself. He did his usual little kid thing and was doing ok, until a cop pulled him aside and asked if he needed any help. Now Finnick may look like a little kit, but his voice is deeper then Morgan Fleaman's. So he ended up running away from the cop and we decided not to do it alone. But with me going to be gone, I don't know if he'd still stay with the agreement.
I went to Finnicks name in my contact list and began to text him.
'Dude, got busted by my mom, she knows everything.'
'WHAT? Shit man, that sucks. So what she gonna do to you?'
'She's sending me to Bunnyburrow for the summer, won't be able to work with you.'
My eyes widened a bit at the next text I got from him. There are a lot of words that I'm obligated not to say. I sighed and thought it be best if I leave it alone at that. I didn't want to sat anything else that might infuriate him more. I just hope he would be calm enough for me to talk to him tomorrow. It's hard to believe that I won't see the city for like three months. I've never been away that long, especially not to the middle of nowhere.
I closed my eyes, ready for some sleep. The only thing that was on my mind as I drifted to sleep was that this was going to suck.
Hello everyone, I am back with another possible story that I hope all you will enjoy. Depending on the feedback of this story I'll get another chapter out as soon as possible if people like it. If not then well... we'll see.
Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read this and reviews are always appreciated.
Keep on keeping on
Peace Out