A/N: Okay so this is my first oneshot fanfiction. Hope you guys enjoy! The idea is all my own so..here.
The teenage boy sat in the creaky, wooden chair, anxiously tapping his foot. He stared intently at the door, as if waiting for something, or someone. What had he done? When his mother left this morning she said this, "No leaving the house. I'm going to lock you inside. If you step even a pinky toe out of line, I will not hesitate to whip your sorry bottom!" He had disobeyed her, greatly. He made his village friends pick the lock on the door so they could head outside and fool around a little bit. Not long after, he had realized that one of his friends had brought over something that he had called, "Firecrackers." His friend, George, had explained that these apparently were used in the army to "Light people's sorry butts on fire!" At the time, the teenager thought this was cool. Much later though, things got out of hand. They had accidentally released the firecracker onto the barn. The barn that held their chickens, cows, and hens. Their main supply of money and food. Needless to say, he was drowning in a pit of self-hatred and anxiousness. Suddenly, the door shot open, revealing his stone cold mother in all her glory. "Hello Darren." she said, no smile on this women's face though, she was as cold as a cobblestone in Hyrule CastleTown! "Mum, I-I" he started. The woman ignored him, waltzing up to the back door that led to the barn. Dear Nayru, he thought, I'm got going to survive this. He heard the sorrowful sound of the back door opening, followed by a blood-curdling, ear-piercing scream. "DARREN PATRICK SHRINGER!" the boy's mother screamed. He closed his eyes real tight and whispered, "Coming Majora."
The woman's face was Healing Potion red, she looked so angry that the boy wouldn't be surprised if steam began to roll out of her ears! "WHAT HAPPENED TO THE BARN?" she cried out. Her dark, gray eyes stared into his soul, as she pondered the question. "W-Well M-mum, uhh...I kind of..b-b-b-blew it u-up." he glanced towards the ground at the remnants of the wooden beams that lined the ceiling. If she could get any angrier, she definitely did. Sure, she was an incredibly strict mother, but Darren had never seen her this mad. She took her hand, raising it slowly, she brought it down right open his handsome face. He fell to the ground, wincing from the pain. She stormed from the room and brought back a long, black whip. "Say your sorry." she smiled. She kicked the boy over onto his back and tore through his shirt. "Sorry..."he muttered. She continued to smile as the whip was brought down again, and again open his bare skin.
Darren ran. He didn't care where he was going, but he had to get away from her, his mum, Majora. He bumped into trees, tripping over his own to feet, as the blood ran warm down his back. He still felt like he didn't deserve this. He was an innocent child! It was indeed his friends who set fire to the barn, not him! He fell to the ground, gasping from the pain coarsing throughout his whole body.
He began to carve. He pulled out his knife and carved a piece of wood, that he had ripped from a nearby tree. He made it look like his mother, her heart shaped face, her wide, stony eyes, and the veins in her face when she got mad. He made it looked hideous, like her cold soul. It was a cold, winter evening and soon his mind was grappling for some hold to reality, as the pain washed over him. "I-I can't die yet, I must finish i-it." He madly searched the forest for some sort of berries to color the horrendous mask. He grabbed a flat rock and started to mash the berries, venting all of the anger inside of him. He took a thin tipped stick and started to paint the mask, making sure it was perfect. He again took his knife and clawed out the inside, mask-like. He held it up to his face, hoping that, if he ever survived this somehow, he would never be as horrible as his mother. He tried to stand and eventually reached success, limping his way, trying to find an exit to this horrible forest. He knelt and prayed, he prayed that none ever felt the wrath of his mother. Shadows bent and shaped in his vision, making him sleepy. The blood soaked through his extra shirt and he remembered the words his mother had said, "No leaving the house. I'm going to lock you inside. If you step even a pinky toe out of line, I will not hesitate to whip your sorry bottom!" Darren frowned at the cold words. Black dots wavered in front of him, falling to the cold, forest ground he made his last dying wish, looking at the mask, "I p-pray, that you will never do unto anybody, what you have done to me, Majora's Mask."