Peter shuffled across the hallway, rubbing his sleepy eyes and yawning, his eyebrows knitting together as he did so. It was 10 PM and the only thing the 6 year-old boy wanted was to bury himself in the sheets of his bed and sleep for days and days. But he couldn't. He couldn't because he wanted his unicorn plushie and the toy had, once again, disappeared and the boy would not go to bed without it.
"Th't bast'rd..." he managed to mumble, too tired to pronounce the words correctly.
He stopped his night walk in front of a door with papers pined on it. Most of them were warning such as "You shall not pass" or "Alistair give me my bloody faerie doll back !" and death threats. There was a list where was written the names of the persons who were or weren't allowed to enter the room. On the "Will never enter" list were written the names "Alistair, Connor, Brennan, Evan and Peter" and on the "Can enter if they knock and ask nicely" were written the names "Mum and Dad". The only person on the "Can always enter" list was their cat Gandalf. No one cared about the list and they all entered without even glancing at it. And without knocking or asking nicely.
"Oï ! Jerk, where did you put Glowy!" Peter cursed.
At his brother's lack of answer, Peter growled and made his way towards the bed. The little boy was angry. His brother just kept stealing his Glowy and claiming ownership of it! He knew he was doing it just to piss him off because Glowy was clearly his! He had bought it himself at the little store in town! He was the one who made the 15 minutes long trip to the shop and sacrificed his afternoon snacks to go buy it ! He deserved that plushie!
Okay he may have bought it with Arthur's money. But it was still his!
He took a box under the bed and placed it next to the feet of the bed. He climbed on it to be able to reach the sheets that he shook vehemently. Noticing that the form underneath the blanket wasn't moving he pulled the sheets.
"I know you're not sleeping ! Where is-!"
"What are you doing in England ?" the knight on the TV asked.
"Mind your own business!" replied back the angry Frenchman.
Rose was lying on the bed and looking at the TV in front of her with a dull expression and a megaphone pressed to her chest. She brought a crisp to her mouth, completely ignoring her husband at the table behind her who was looking desperately at the empty bottle of gin that he had turned upside down above his empty glass, waiting for some miracle to make the liquor appear again.
Their evening activities were interrupted by a high-pitched scream at the first floor. Rose jumped from her couch, taken aback by the loud scream and Christopher, surprised, made the bottle fall on the ground with a "Fuck!". Rose raised an eyebrow at her husband who just shrugged, picking up the bottle. The ginger woman made her way up the stairs to find one of the door open. She entered to see a frightened Peter sitting on the ground and pointing at the bed shakily. She frowned at the sight of her son trembling on the ground. What on Earth was going on in there? But when she looked at the bed, she finally understood her son's reaction.
On the furniture was lying what probably used to be a life-size doll. However her belly had been cut open and evil clowns heads were jumping out of it due to the spring they had been placed on. They had long tongues coming out of their mouths and a sadistic look.
"What the-" she started to say before noticing a little paper taped on one of the clowns' head. She took it and flipped it open with a small tug. When she finished her reading, her eyes widened. She took the megaphone and yelled in an angry tone her husband's name.
Christopher, who had now been trying to find a new bottle of gin in one of the shelves, groaned at the sound of his name. He guessed that there would be no time for another drink tonight, judging from her wife's tone. As he walked towards the stairs, a hand rubbing his aching back, he saw his wife and his son Peter rushing towards him. Rose had a frown on her face and tossed a letter at him.
"Read." she ordered. Christopher, who didn't want to deal with his wife's anger, sighed and obeyed.
Mum, Dad,
The doll was made with love for my idiotic brothers. I hope they appreciated my hard work. (But those ungrateful gits probably didn't.)
And to avoid any sort of confusion, I just wanted to clarify that :
1. A raven stole your binoculars.
2. Don't search for me anywhere, I'm not going back. But don't worry, I'm safe. I took some biscuits, some tea and some books with me.
3. Don't search for Gandalf too. I took him with me. I'm the only one who loves him in this stupid family anyway.
Ceshar,
Arthur Kirkland.
PS : Tell Peter that I've taken Glowy. It's my stuffed toy anyway.
Christopher narrowed his eyes at the letter, then at his wife who was tapping her foot angrily on the ground.
"So... Is this supposed to mean that our 11 year-old son just ran away with the cat and some biscuits?"
"And that jerk took Glowy!" cried Peter.
"This table is emptier than usual..." a tall and skinny man whispered to himself, perking up in the middle of his meal. He glanced at the table, only to find children eating their meal obediently. He frowned. "Is anyone missing ?"
"I don't know, ve." replied a boy with a sticking-plaster on his cheeks. "Romano, is someone missing ?" The said Romano just shrugged. "Why would I know ?" he replied.
"I haven't seen Alfred yet!" an energetic little blonde boy with round glasses said.
"Has anyone seen Alfred ?"
All the boys looked at each other, asking to the boy next to them if they had seen Alfred. Most of them turned back to the man and shrugged.
"Nobody has seen him since yesterday evening sir."
"What do you mean nobody has seen him since yesterday evening ?" the adult replied, frowning.
The scouts stopped in front of the tent wearing the number 34. The man kneeled and started knocking on the fabric.
"Jones ? Are you there?"
A silence followed his question before he tried again, calling the boy's name. "Jones ? Is something wrong ? Hey Jones!" At Alfred's absence of responses, he unzipped his tent only to find a perfectly empty room. A silence filled the air once again and the man called the boy another time with a nervous tone. "Jones..?"
The boys behind him started to whisper things at each other's ears, wondering where their friend could have gone. The adult kept looking in the ridiculously small tent for a good minute before noticing a fabric taped on the tent's wall. He frowned and approached the peculiar fabric. When he touched it, it gave in and revealed a hole, minutely cut in the wall. The man's eyes widen and he turned to the children, who were waiting for his prognostic eagerly.
"Jiminy Cricket, he flew the coop!"
Tony Stevenson was looking at the plate he had previously been eating readily with a desperate look. It was like the man was waiting to be hanged. He was definitively going to have a terrible feedback from having lost one of his scouts. What would they think of a scout running away from the camp ? Why did the Jones kid even have to run away in the first place ?
The young boy with the glasses ran excitedly towards his elder, waving a small white letter at him.
"Sir, sir, I found a letter in Alfred's tent!" he said, trying hard not to bounce up and down with excitement, a grin plastered on his face.
"A letter ?" Tony repeated, finally stopping to look at his plate and taking the letter from the blonde's hands.
"I'm the one who found it! I found it!"
"Yes, and that's wonderful Joachim. Fantastic." he said in a monotonous tone, patting the boy's head.
When he opened the letters he could see written in big red letters :
Dear Mr Tony,
I just wanted to tell you that it's not your fault that I ran away.
Also, I've taken my scout equipment and your cookies jar. (I was hungry!) I'm sorry. When I will be big and strong, I will pay you back with Oreos or something.
Goodbye,
Alfred F. Jones
PS : Wait, you like Oreos right?
"What does it say ? What does it say ?" the little blonde asked, jumping up and down in an attempt to read over Tony's shoulder.
The tall man just looked at the paper in a blase disbelief and then put it down on the table to look at the kid who was looking at him with wide eyes full of excitement.
"It says that there will be no cookies tonight."
The boy's face fell and his eyes began to tear up. "What ? No cookies?"
Author's note :
Moonrise Kingdom was so adorable! If you haven't seen it you should! (Here is the trailer if you have never heard of it ! www. youtube watch?v=7N8wkVA4_8s ) Yes the "Jiminy Cricket, he flew the coop!" comes directly from the movie because I just really loved that sentence :P
Oh and sorry if there are a lot of grammar mistakes ^^' English isn't my first language, I'm French! And I don't really make big descriptions and make super complicated sentences because : One, I don't feel the need to complicate things with that story, I mean it's two kids running away and it's not a drama where I have to emphasize their feelings a lot xD I would even say that it's a comedy. Two, this is kind of my crack story ;P
I just HAD to name his cat Gandalf ;) And yep! The "You shall not pass" is a Lord of the Rings reference xD "Ceshar" means "goodbye" in Elvish. It's the elves' language in the Lord of the Rings :p
And the people talking on TV (When Arthur's mother is eating her crisps.) are two characters from the movie "Monty Python and the Holy Grail". Search "Monty Python - French Taunting" on youtube if you want to see it. It's hilarious really :P It describes the relationship between English people and French people so well, haha! (I know the movie came out in 1975 and that my story takes place in the 60s -' But whatever, sorry)
Oh and the story takes place in the 60s in the North of England :)
Alistair : Scotland
Connor : North Ireland
Brennan : South Ireland
Evan : Wales
Peter : Obviously Sealand