Dreaming of a Girl by Peter Pancake (best fiction novels of all time TXT) π
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- Author: Peter Pancake
Read book online Β«Dreaming of a Girl by Peter Pancake (best fiction novels of all time TXT) πΒ». Author - Peter Pancake
The men were chasing on ominously, each petal moving with the vibrations of the calm river water served as a precedent for each step one of them took. Carson stood still in the corner behind a beaver dam, studying the water as it moved passed along with the voices of each man.
"I don't care if it takes years, you're finding this kid or your head gets smashed between one of these dead-beat pair of logs." A demanding tone, certain to be from the man of a strong jaw, Jared. "The little twig went this way and we aren't stopping till we find him."
A strong surge pulsed through the water, shifting the position of Carson's trousers around his knees. Suddenly, one of the scrawny looking men came from around one of the branches. He opened his mouth, about to say something. A quick half a second until an arrow from Carson was shot between his lips with him falling into the water and a loud splash.
"Shit," he muttered, rummaging through the branches behind him as more men came around the other end of the dam. "There he is! Get him! You're dead you piece of shit." He jumped from the bank of the river and ran rampant up the hill that led to the rest of the never-ending forest.
He paused after a minute, hearing a female voice behind him call out his name. When he turned around he saw one of the men, with a girl's voice, telling him to "Wake up and stop being such a dumbass." Carson groaned and closed his eyes calmly, feeling his weight become light like a feather and his mind start to dim down.
His next sight was his bedroom ceiling, the rest of his room, and his sister Tracey's face of scorn. "Jesus Christ, finally. Get up, we have ten minutes before the bus comes to get us." She stopped before she walked out of his bedroom door, "And take a shower while you're at it."
As usual the bed sheets were in knotts around his legs and his position while he lay was rather uncomfortable, but he got himself up in the matter of it and looked himself in the mirror across from him. "Well, Carson. Another day in this lame ass shity life of yours before you can go back to where the action happens." He ran his hand along his cheek. In his dream, there was a wound there from a sword that struck him. Now all that was there was acne and stubble. His dark blonde hair was sticking out in different places and his hazel eyes with bags underneath them.
Clothes were spread across his floor. Carson and his mom were dissonant about him cleaning his room and why that would ever happen in a million years unless she threatened to take away his XBox. Laundry was never done, howerver, so he had to use the same clothes again and again until his mother had time to do the laundry. Her excuse is that he could do it, but they both knew well that could never happen.
He had no time to take a shower, so he simply pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, adding on a few squirts of cologne and heading out his bedroom door, going down the stairs. The smell of butter toast from the kitchen was the only thing driving him up this morning to the kitchen. Carson's mother was leaning against the island counter and his sister was reading a magazine while sipping a glass of milk. "Sleep well Carson?"
"I did, thanks mom." Blunt but still mannered. He sat down beside his sister and lifted his eyebrows in interest at his mother as he took a piece of toast. "Did you get any news back from dad yet?"
She shook her head and took a gulp of coffee from the mug which she was holding. "He hasn't written back to us in three weeks and it's making me rather worried. Course none of those scum-bags with him want to give us a call once in a while to let us know if he's okay."
"It's okay, mom. I'm sure he's fine." He laughed softly while he spoke.
"Whatever, I'm ready to shove a gun up their ass if they decide to tell me weeks later that my husband died; you know, while in grieving and all."
Tracey looked up at her and scoffed, "Mom!"
"What? They'd deserve it..." She leisurely raised her mug back up to her lips with a grin on her face. "I packed your lunches, both ham and turkey with one mystery fruit. So be good and have a nice day and school." A long moment strided on before she sighed. "Guys, out."
The two of them rolled their eyes at her and grabbed their book bags off the floor. "You're sending us to hell." Tracey called to her, leading out the door with Carson behind her. He gave his mom a small smile before closing the door and walking to the driveway with his sister, the bus approaching them a minute after.
ImprintText: Boulder Inc.
Images: Unknown
Editing: Peter Pancake
Publication Date: 12-31-2013
All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
I'd like to dedicate this story to the one I love, someone I would die for.
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