Chapter 2: Bit by Bit

Day: June 24th, 2103

Time: 6:51 in the Morning

*Bang*

Last shot, reload. Then aim at the target.

*bang* *bang*...

I calmly rest my modern Schofield revolver on the table top, which separated me from the paper target. I grabbed the red protective headphones from my head as the world started to waver in my eyes. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed to eat. Yet my mind reminded me what I would look if I give into my horrible gluttony- A dreadful image of me inflating like a balloon, then popping like one as soon as my blue quilled friend back-flipped into me. The image alone was enough for me to freak out, yet I know I'm dangerously underweight...

Damn my anorexia at times. It sucks worse when you know what is gonna happen if you don't really take in a lot of nutrients.

You end up dying, no second chance. Zero extra life for starving yourself, just destination Decomposing central. Yah can't even cheat your slow, agonizing death with vitamins; just using vitamin supplements for food won't help yah growling stomach. I know this because I tried it, didn't really work out.

The worst part of my life isn't my anorexia, oh no. My problems came about when my old man left me in charge of my five year-old sister, Hope Kintobor. She was the last gift from my mother, who had died from an illness that strangely, didn't affect my then unborn sister. My lovely sister was born on October the 9th, 2088.

I was five at the time of her death, so obviously it affected me the most. It also affected our dad; too, as he started taking care of Hope the instant mother breathed her last. His attention was mostly on Hope for the next couple years, leading me to discover the good and the bad things of the world on my lonesome.

The day when I met that overweight idiot was the day that dad stopped being dad.

I was twelve when we met on the New Year of 2095, Hope was seven, and he was ten. The kid was extremely quiet when I and my sister first met him, barely ever spoke save for anything related to food. I had empty pockets and only one satisfied child with a full belly by the time the festival was over. Fortunately, it happened to be the overweight hedgehog that had followed me and my little sis to a small, rundown temple that older people had said was haunted. Yet, it felt like a perfect place for two kids and a sleepy child to stay in for a bit. Hope was asleep by the time me and the blue hedgehog had even found the place, and was comfortably on my back via piggy back. By the time I had placed Hope onto a comfortable part of the ground, the hedgehog that had been following the both of us had started to speak.

"T-t-t-hanks for spendin' some time with me..." he trailed off, as if he wasn't sure if it was a good time to say.

At that time, I wasn't the person who would sarcastically snap at any one, so I just ended up being truthful to him. "It's not a problem. Mind if I ask for your name?"

"...Nicky Sound..." Nicky quietly shut himself up. I attempted to pull my best glare out on him, which was really more of a pout due to my age. Luckily for me, the being my glare-pout was directed to was near the same age as me. "Nickolas S-Soundbreaker?!"

"SHHHUUUSSSHH!" I tried to keep him quiet, but it was all in vain as Hope woke up. She started to complain about how she wanted to go back to dad. I had no choice on staying with a crabby kid and another kid who wanted to know my name, so I quickly gathered my sister, dropped both my own and my sister's name to the hedgehog, and left.

I can't remember when or how we got back. Though it was really late, I reckon, because the lights weren't on in the house. I didn't put much thought into it that night because I was mostly half-asleep, and I thought that dad might have been asleep as well. I took both myself and Hope quickly to bed as soon as we got in.

Dad wasn't there when I got up, and never was there for the both of us after that.

I don't remember the many details of that night, yet I felt that they were important for something once... Nah. Anyway, that day was both the best day and the worst day of my life. Though while I had been watching myself through the first few years of my life, I was practically at normal weight for a kid back then. When dad left, I had to watch not only myself, but Hope as well. I would spend from then to now constantly giving up my own life for her to grow up beautifully. It kind-a also meant watching my weight so that it didn't go too far up or down, but after the fight with dad made me a bit... self-conscious about myself.

Three years after he left, he came back to the nearly run-down house I and Hope still called home. At that time, it would have looked liked it was always abandoned (which it was, as I had to take Hope to Charles' place as I had to work for my first job back then). A good layer of dust formed over the useless space-filling vases and ornaments. There was an armchair near the old oak front; the whole leather seat was a nice light brown shade. My fifteen year-old self was seated in the armchair, glaring at the man who came in through the door. He had on a blue vest on his body, his white dress shirt underneath. He also had on black dress pants, held up by a silver belt depicting an 'h' on its buckle- though due to the artistic design, looked more like- 'I-C'. My dad's aged face look exhausted lines that have increased over the years due to stress and grief. The grey-brown orbs were staring directly at me under the clear glasses that was hanging from his nose. My dad sighed, running a rugged hand through his greying-orange hair.

"Orgville..." His tired voice breached our silence, yet I was too upset at being abandoned to consider his tone. "Sorry, kid." He chuckled a bit, aggravating my anger more. "I haven't had the time to raise you and your sister properly, because-"

"Work's more important than the both of us, right?" I sharply sneered, starling my father a bit. "I mean, it's not like we're important enough to have a good role model and all." It wasn't my intention to say that, as my dad knew I didn't like the idea of role models. Either way, dad realized that there was something I could not tell him. I tried excusing myself from him, but he quickly spun me around to face him. I didn't notice that his stubble was growing a bit, a sign that he may have been neglecting himself.

Like I am right now, with my anorexia and all.

"Is there something happening at school?" he asked me, knowing that I had been bullied in school a few years back. People do believe that my dad may be a rat Aryan in a human disguise. Despite me and Hope telling some of the kids that this isn't true, I have been beaten up by kids who think that they have the right to take out their home life frustrations on someone who's considered 'different' cause hey, no one's going to care 'bout them, right?

I think I had gained my self-hatred of weight around that time. My dad had learned about it the first fainting attack at school two years back. When I was brought into the hospital, I was forced to regain the amount of weight I had lost from my developed anorexia. Oddly, I really don't remember why or how I gained the anorexia problem. Was it because of them making fun of my dad, whom I looked so much alike? Either way, I feel most of my problems could be redirected back toward the man who hid himself in his work.

"...Nothing's wrong." I said quietly, keeping my eye contact on my dad's grey-brown. I knew that my voice betrayed my words to him. He reached out, hoping to try and rebuild the strangled relationship between us-

"Hey daddy! You're home!" Hope came running through to the entryway to the house, breaking dad's concentration and concern for me. While I was glad Hope had the miraculous ability to come in at the right time, I kind of hoped that we could make up after we had the eventual second fight between us.

That was the last time I ever tried opening up to him. Hah, I had never thought that we would end up settling our relationship with each other.

I am Orgville Maurice Kintobor, sometimes just known as Ovi, trainee cop of the Station Square Police Department. My current age is eighteen years, and my only wish is to make sure my younger sister Hope Selene Kintobor grows up to become whoever she wanted to be. To make sure she gets to whatever she wants, I decided to get myself a part-time job (As the old man occasionally forgets that he DOES have kids, at times). I feel that since Mum had left her body, I have to uphold the responsibility of taking care of this family, even if it kills me to get over the hurdles of failures and half-successes with taking care of her.

I at least think mum would have tried to do that for her. I never really tell Hope this, but I think that sometimes, she looks astonishingly like Mum in every single way.

I hear my phone ringing (I think, I'm not really sure if I brought one in), and

Wait, why is my face on the floor?