A/N: So I actually have most of this up on my tumblr, but this version will actually be edited and have content added. Hooray! Thanks to walrusandbucket for the name of this chapter and the help naming the fic!
Chang played with his friend by them river, tossing stones in and creating a point system based on the size of the splash and how quickly the fish they could see scattered. It was therapeutic to the ten year old, his parents had been fighting again and the yelling bothered him. As soon as he recognized the tone in his parents' voices, he had dashed out of the house. He didn't like to be present to hear all the things they said to each other, especially since he felt that deep down, they weren't true.
"Mom and Dad were yelling again," Chang told his friend Bao as he tossed another large stone, this one with a flat base, into the river. The stone created a satisfyingly large splash and scattered the fish so effectively it took them several minutes to calm down.
"Sorry, Chang. They'll stop eventually. That one's a solid 26," Bao commented absent mindedly.
"26? That's at least a 38! Did you see the size of the splash? And look, the fish aren't all back yet!" Chang defended his rock's splash.
"38? I'd say more of a 30," Bao said.
"Why 30? You just said it was a 26."
"Because that's about the middle of the two."
"Nuh-uh! The middle of the two is 32! You see, 26 plus six is 32 and 38 minus six is 32!" Chang corrected, scanning the sandy beach for good rocks to throw.
"Oh." Bao tossed a rock in. A Plop! was heard, but no fish scattered.
"Seven," Chang said.
"Seven," Bao agreed, "Even then, I'm still winning."
"But I did get the 32, right?" Chang asked, not wanting to let go of his prized splash.
"Yeah, you did."
The boys continued to throw rocks into the river until they grew bored. Despite Chang's 32, Bao was declared the winner, and they settled on running through the water that lapped at the sand and dirt.
"Dad came home all dirty again," Chang said. "He said he had to kill another wolf but Mom said he's lying 'cause it's not a part of his job. He gets mad when she says that, he says she doesn't trust him. She said he needs to stop coming home all covered in dirt and blood because that's not good."
"Sorry, Chang. Is he really killing wolves though?"
"I think so. Dad just wants it to be safe here. He told me himself!"
"Oh."
The boys continued to run through the shallow water. Sometimes they'd splash each other, slowly venturing deeper into the river.
Suddenly, a woman ran towards them, screaming. "You boys get out of that river right now! It's not safe! You know what happened to that family last year! The river flooded and dragged them away, gone forever!" she yelled.
"Uh oh," Chang muttered.
"I'm in huge trouble now," Bao said, grimacing.
The woman, Bao's mother, grabbed him by his wrist and dragged him out of the river. "How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from the river? And you, Chang, you should be ashamed of yourself! Does your mother know you're out here? You can't even swim! What would happen if you got pulled under, huh? You're lucky I don't march you home this very instant and tell her what you were doing!" she berated.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't know what I was thinking. Thank you for stopping us before something bad could happen," Chang apologized, sincerity strong in his wide eyes.
Bao's mother sighed. "Just stay out of trouble, Chang. You head home, I won't tell your mother a thing, alright? I'll just take Bao home and be done with it."
"Yes, ma'am, I will go right home! Thank you so much!"
With that, they departed. Chang dashed home, worried that his friend's mom had a point and that his mom was worried sick about him. She had been so nervous recently. I really shouldn't have run off like that, he thought. The last thing he wanted was to worry his mother. He thought back to the first time his dad came home dirty.
It was Chang's fifth birthday, and he sat on the floor, playing with a toy his mother had gotten him. He hadn't seen his father all day, but his mother told him not to worry, he'd come home soon. And soon enough, he did.
His father walked in, his hands filthy and caked with dirt. His shoes were stained red, along with his pants and his shirt. There was a dot of dried something on his face, too.
"Daddy?" Chang asked, head tilted slightly to one side. "Why're you all red and dirty? Didja fall and get a owie?"
His dad whipped his gaze to his son. There was a certain look in his eye, an odd look, one that Chang had never seen on a person before. "Daddy's okay, Chang. He just had to… kill a wolf. Daddy had to kill a wolf so it wouldn't hurt anyone."
Chang's eyes went wide with awe. "You a hero! Didja bury it and everything?"
"Yes, Chang, yes I did."
He smiled, happy at the memory of the start of his dad's heroics, walking up the path to the house. He touched the doorknob, smile widening at the silence. They had finally stopped fighting!
He entered the house and walked through the front room when he heard muttering.
"If you had stayed quiet, I wouldn't have had to do this, bitch. No one will find you. No one will ever find you."
"That sounds like… But why would he…?" Chang whispered, trailing off. Fear crept into him. He shrank in on himself, pulling his arms in and balling his hands into loose fists. Had someone attacked?
"You should have just ignored it. You should have trusted me," the muttering continued, occasionally dropping so low Chang couldn't hear what was being said.
Where was his mom? "Maybe Dad made her hide," Chang whispered, as though saying his thoughts out loud would dispel his fears.
He slowly ventured to the kitchen. As he stepped around the corner, a horrific, sickening scene opened up before him.
His father was on the floor, scrubbing away. He was entirely surrounded by blood. There was a discarded gardening hoe- the exact one his mother had bought earlier that year- soaked in blood and gore. In the middle of it all lay Chang's mother. Her clothing was torn, and so red Chang couldn't see the original blue. Her eyes were stretched wide open and mouth hung agape in a silent scream. There was a deep wound in her head- no doubt the one that ended her life. Her body was twisted, more gashes deep and filled with blood and red flesh that had been torn away scattered all over her. The smell of the blood was nauseating, and Chang's vision swam.
"I got you, bitch, I killed you good, I killed you good. You can join the others, bitch!" Chang's father hissed, striking his wife again with the hoe. A squelching sound reached Chang's ears, and Chang let out a high pitched squeal, muffled slightly by his hands.
To Chang's utmost horror, his father heard. Slowly, the man's head lifted, his gaze settling on Chang. He raised one blood drenched hand, pointing a finger at Chang. "You," he said. "Come here."
Chang began to sob, his hands still clamped tightly over his mouth. He couldn't move, he couldn't run. He just stared at his father, frozen in place.
"I said come here!" his father snapped, standing, agitated.
At this, Chang took a step back. He kept crying, his hands refusing to come down from his mouth.
His father got up to one knee, moving quickly, only stopped by another stifled scream from his son. "Get over here! Now!"
Chang sobbed again, shaking his head quickly. He recognized that look in his father's eyes from the first time he had gotten home a complete mess. That wasn't the look of a hero, that was insanity. His father wasn't killing wolves, he was killing people.
Chang ran. He fled from the scene, crawling under a table in an attempt to conceal himself. He heard his father running around the house. The running drew closer until his father turned the corner, a rag and large sack in hand.
Chang clambered out from under the table and ran from him. He passed the kitchen again, the revolting scent of blood and death reaching his nose. A wave of dizziness came over Chang, and he leaned over, vomiting. Once the smell hit him, he retched again, more vomit splashing on the floor.
Suddenly, a red hand seized him. "No!" Chang screamed. The rag was quickly stuffed in his mouth, preventing him from crying out anymore. Chang was struck over the head, with what he did not know, and he fell to the floor, landing thankfully away from his mess and the blood.
"Worthless child!" his father shouted.
Chang watched helplessly as his father loomed over him, fear and pain immobilizing him. His father grabbed him, stuffing him into the sack and tying it shut.
Chang felt himself be lifted and his father started walking. He heard a door open and shut. Terror gripped him. He couldn't fight. His mother was dead, victim of a grisly murder by her own husband's hands. Now he was going to be killed.
His father carried him, slung over his shoulder. Finally, he stopped moving. "Go to hell!" his father hissed.
Then, Chang was flying through the air, which quickly changed to falling. Falling, falling rapidly. His descent was cut off with a loud splash and water rushed in through the stitching of the sack. He had been thrown into the river like the rocks from before!
Chang tore at the rag in his mouth, ripping it out quickly, gasping in the last bubble of air before it was lost to the river. He dug at the knot in the sack, desperate to escape. He felt himself hit the bottom of the river, and he struggled more and more.
Finally, he ripped open the sack. He swam up, being pulled away by the current. The river's too strong, I can't do this! He inwardly cried.
Panic bubbled up, he clawed at the water, his lungs screamed for air. He broke surface briefly, just enough time for him to gulp down some air before he was dragged under again. H resurfaced again and grabbed a rock, sputtering. He clung to the rock, breathing heavily.
Then, things went from bad to worse. A small, shoddily made dam up the river, struggling to contain water from the heavy rain experienced further up the river, broke. Tons of water came rushing, pulling Chang away from the rock.
After what felt like hours of struggle, Chang finally grabbed onto debris long enough to cry out.
"Help! Help! Help!"