So, there will be parts where the flashbacks will be mixed with the main story. I worked for an hour to fix it, but Fanfiction is failing on me. Sorry for that little inconvenience. You should be able to tell when it is the flashback of Thomas's past and the moment where he is in CGL digging holes. :)
Hate it, love it;
just
enjoy it.
6
"What are you doing?" Thomas asked as he walked towards the eight-year old boy who was squatted over something on the ground.
"Shut up and leave me alone," replied Gabriel.
This enraged Thomas, but he tried to keep it under control.
"Why do you always blame me for everything?" he said. The hurt in his voice cracked through.
"You broke Daddy's TV. Now he's leaving us."
"Dad isn't leaving because of that. He left because he's always fighting with Mom for everything, and he got sick of it."
Thomas said this with a strong voice, but he did, in fact, blame himself for every scream, every slamming door, and every punch that his father had graciously given to his mother.
The last straw was when he and Gabriel were playing baseball inside the house with wooden spoons and tennis balls, and pillows.
I love pillows...
Thomas hit a home run, which knocked over the tall lamp, sending it crashing into the new color TV.
His father rushed in, hearing the noise. However, Thomas and Gabriel had not noticed their father's facial expression as he stared at his broken television. It was the pure horror in his mother's face that told them that something very bad was going to happen.
Marion
For what seemed like a long time, I didn't know what to do.
His neat, black hair was a mess, now, and his black polo shirt buttoned up all the way to the neck was dusty—and not worth all the money that it was.
Finally logic managed to seep into the mining field that was my head and gave me the ability to speak.
"We can't do anything without finishing our holes first. The old man checks every night to see that we dug them. We have to finish these holes first, okay? Do you understand?" I spoke to him slowly.
The desperation in his eyes never completely left, but it was now mixed with disappointment and self-restraint.
He took his shovel and began digging with more determination than he had before.
I was basically finished. Thomas was not even half way done.
I didn't know why I was doing it, but I was helping him… helping him as if I really did have a chance to get out of there that night.
Instead of roaring in anger and dragging one of the children by the hair, their father looked at their mother and said, "I can't do this anymore."
This sent Thomas's mother into hysterics.
"Alex! Please!" She cried, chasing after him as he walked quickly upstairs to their bedroom.
"Alex. Will you stop packing and just look at me?" the mother begged.
The children stayed in the foyer, unable to move. They just listened to what was going on upstairs.
"IT'S HELL HERE, SARAH! YOU ARE TURNING ME INTO A MONSTER!" cried his father as his voice echoed through the halls..
"No," said the strange new tone that came from their mother. Thomas could imagine time freezing at the second floor as the word was uttered.
"You have always been a fucking monster."
There was a sound like a paddle hitting a large sheet of leather, and then the mother's scream. The beating had begun.
There was a second slap. Little did the children know, the second strike came from their mother. She had hit him back.
The air was still again.
"Let's go outside," Thomas said to his brother with a still voice. They left their parents to battle in the upper floor.
Gabriel just stared at his brother with utter contempt and ran outside to the yard.
Thomas just stood there, and only for a moment, he did not know where he was or what he was doing there.
Why?
Thomas
"So… why did you set your brother on fire and hide him in the woods?" the feminine-looking boy asked Thomas whilst helping dig the half-finished hole.
He didn't answer.
Thomas knew the boy with the scrungee on his head wouldn't understand.
"Why don't you talk?" asked the boy again.
Thomas wiped his nose, still sniffing from the embarrassing moment of breakdown he had just an hour earlier.
The boy with the scrungee sighed. "What's your name, again?"
"Thomas."
"My name's…" the boy hesitated, "…not important."
This ignited curiosity in Thomas for only a second, but then he continued to think of his brother dying in the woods.
Scrungee boy wasn't ready to give in.
"Sooo… if they think you killed your brother, why would they send you to camp Greenlake? The average crime here is stealing from old ladies and pinching small children". The stupid boy grinned at his own clever sarcasm.
If he wasn't helping Thomas, he would have pulled that scrungee around the kid's neck and—
"They took it as an accidental death. I'm sentenced here for twenty months for arson and all this other stuff."
The boy made an "o" shape with his lips.
"I was framed for kicking a hole in Santa's crotch," said the boy.
Thomas looked at the insanity that was before him and slightly feared for his life.
"What are you doing?" Thomas asked.
They were in the yard.
"Shut up and leave me alone."
Gabriel blamed Thomas for everything bad that happened in his life.
"I hate you," he finally said, without turning to look at Thomas.
Thomas walked over to see what his brother was doing. There were some matches in his pudgy hand, In front of him were some dry leaves and his three-legged plastic dinosaur.
"It's plastic," Thomas said to his brother, "you can't burn it with matches."
"Fuck off!"
Thomas was taken aback.
"Don't talk to me like that. I'm your older brother," he fought back the urge to hit his brother.
No. He was not going to be like his father.
"I don't know you," Gabriel said, continuing to attempt to burn the stegosaurus's tail.
His little brother had succeeded in creating a flame at the tip of the toy's tail. It looked like a fire Pokémon.
Suddenly there was a crash—the sound of glass completely shattering. The boys ran inside.
Thomas
The two boys walked back to the camp site in the cold, quiet night air.
"Hooo! Hooo!" the scrungee boy exclaimed. He smiled at Thomas.
"I'm an owl!" he smiled.
Thomas wanted to die.
"So, you want to escape from a place that's a hundred and twenty miles from the next, non-delinquent facility…"
Thomas did not answer, but kept on walking.
The asshole wasn't taking him seriously, and if he wasn't mistaken, Thomas was sure that he was being annoyingly stupid on purpose.
But what he said next took him by surprise.
"We could steal old-man-Walker's three-mile-an-hour funeral car."
"It doesn't go three miles an hour," Thomas said, not understanding the boy's language that seemed to be totally made up of sarcasm.
"Yes…" the scrungee boy picked at a scab on his elbow. "I want to get out of here as well. So does everyone else here."
The boy flicked the scab into the dark air.
"We need the help of an eccentric, gray haired genius, an older, experienced crime master, and a homosexual wigger."
The boy smiled at Thomas again and continued his bird calling.
"Hoo! Hoo!"
In the kitchen, their mother's face was smeared with blood.
Their mother had crashed into the glass table after their father had pushed her aside, as she wouldn't let him go through the door.
This unexpectedly sent Gabriel into an uncontrollable rage.
The small boy cried out in a sound that was full of anger and hurt, and grabbed a large shard of broken glass, throwing it at his surprised father.
He instinctively put his arms in front of his face, but the glass ended up creating a large gash on his forearm, and crashing into a hundred pieces on the floor.
The look on his father's face released a dangerous sense of terror in Thomas.
His father charged swiftly towards Gabriel and picked up the boy who had lost all of his anger and was now begging and whimpering.
Thomas looked to his mother to do something, she was staring at the floor and crying to herself.
Thomas followed his father as he dragged his little brother into the back yard.
What he saw as the door opened made him scream.
Thomas's heart was pounding. He was afraid the kid beside him would hear it and point and laugh.
"D" Tend was just three feet away.
"Guess what guys?" Scrungee boy said as he lifted the flap of the tent entrance.
Three other boys were inside. They were all staring intently at the scrungee boy. Apparently he had some influence on them
"Thomas wants to escape."
Thomas had three main fears at that point.
The first was that he would be rejected and forced to deal with the death of his brother that was his fault. Second, he would not be rejected, but still be beaten to a pulp by the tall, muscular boy who was staring at him as if he wanted to cut his limbs into a billion pieces.
The third fear was, of course, getting ratted out by one of these bastards.
"I'm in," said the tall boy.
"Me, too."
"Me, too."
Thomas didn't even know their names yet.
Gabriel was right, Thomas thought.
Dinosaurs can catch fire.
In fact, the fire had spread over the dry leaves and had begun to eat a quarter of the yard.
It was getting dark, too.
And his father was dragging Gabriel towards the fire as he was helplessly kicking and screaming.
But none of that was the worst of it all.
The worst part was…
They lived twenty miles from the next house.
A thanks to unsuspectingvictim, who also has a nice Holes one-shot that you should check out.
I looked at my stats and saw hits from Germany and Finland and Japan and was like, HOLY CRAP!
Fanfiction has changed a lot since I was last here.
Like, seriously dude, oh em gee.
It's a bit hard to make the story consistent to Mr. Sir's current condition. The main mystery is how Mr. Sir died, but there will be more to come.
You'll get drama, comedy, romance- whatever else I can think of.
Peace, love, and pure utter ecstatic happiness;
LeMoNsOuR