Chapter 2
Rhubol was an intelligent child. He had mastered the art of talking at the age of 2 and was walking perfectly fine on his own by the time he was 30 months old. His father thought that this made him different to the other people that he knew so he severely punished Rhubol at every chance he got. Poor Rhubol couldn't do anything because he was just too young so he just sat there on his living room floor taking whatever punishment his father gave him whilst tears rolled heavily but silently down his slim, soft face.
When Rhubol first started talking, his first word was Goku. His father, not believing his own ears, mercilessly beat him with his belt until Rhubol managed to crawl under his bed. Rhubol could never understand why his father was like this, so he just took whatever was thrown his way.
One of the worst things that Rhubol had to endure during his early childhood after he had started to talk was the meals. Not only were they scarce as his father was never at home, but when he was fed, the food was more or less inedible. If Rhubol didn't eat what was on his plate then it would be stowed for his next meal time to be served cold and then repeated until the plate was cleared.
January 25th 1999
"Look father, it's not that you can't cook, but the fact that I just don't like beans and tomatoes" Rhubol strained whilst gagging.
"Look you son of a whore, you either eat what is on that goddamned plate or else you starve until breakfast where you WILL eat it" His father shouted whilst puffing away on his nicotine stick.
"Dad, I don't like it. I just cannot eat this. Don't you see that this is making me sick?"
"I just don't give a fucking shit what it does to you. You either eat or you don't. It's up to you, you bastard. You're lucky that you even have food on your plate. Everyone around here that the way you have learned to talk so fast means that you are fucking retard. That means that you are a bloody disgrace to my family and should be on the fucking streets like for fucking slut of a mother!" His father yelled at him.
After five more minutes of yelling at him using more obscene language and spitting at Rhubol, his father lifted Rhubol's shirt and stubbed out his cigarette in the center of Rhubol's chest.
"Arrrgh." Rhubol screamed helplessly
"No point screaming boy. No-one can hear you and even if they could they wouldn't come and help a retard child."
Five hours later Rhubol woke up from another nightmare slumped in his bed with a massive lump on his head with tears rolling in a constant scream down his face.
His nightmares were regular visited whenever he fell asleep or passed out. They were often about the beatings that he received daily but they often ending with him never waking up afterward. However, on occasion he did have a pleasant dream. A dream where he met a beautiful girl who was from another planet.
"Where's mom?" He thought to himself. "Why would my mom have left me with this monster?"
His thoughts carried on this dark trail for the remainder of the night until he finally drifted into a fitful sleep.
Masamune was growing up at the standard rat of a 20 month year old toddler. She had just grasped the concept of walking and was quite confident at it. She rarely needed help unless she was very tired. She had started talking at the age of 18 months when her first word had been "sheep" when on holiday in Wales.
Her parents loved her dearly but could not understand why she kept mumbling in her sleep. The only word that they could hear was "Rhubol"