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“It has a sweet aroma. A sharp, fresh scent that seduces my senses. Leaving me craving it's everything, and without any hesitation, I take a bite.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTNzvz6adCs
It stays on my tongue; it lingers, it infects me. Stinging my nerves and tingling down my throat. No matter how hard I try to strip this. The taste will forever stain—Your bitterness.”618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjnpADAo4rd
Chapter 1 Rusted Tin Can618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn2UPwbYdfK
The day is just waking. The glimmering yellow sun shines bright, peering over the mountains to say its well wishes. Leaving the sky, a lovely shade of indigo, with smears of Violet and Golden honey. A watercolor masterpiece painted by nature. Below is the most beautiful ocean. A large fertile rippling mirror of dazzling brilliance. Framed by a row of slick jaded rocks. Standing tall like brittle crystals, unaware that soon they will be tumbled smooth by the oceans might.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡur4MZoibSp
A mosaic path that guides his way. The pronged evergreens, the lapping waves, the whistling winds, and his desperate desires, all leading him forward. Gripping the squeaking leather steering wheel of his beat-up silver clunker. He can't help but smile at such a scene in hopes of making a life here, attempting to blend in like a speck of dirt on a pure white silk sheet. To finally make something out of a pile of unfinished, abandoned pieces. Duct taping them together if he has to and smothering them With every ounce of his youth. To create a man out of a tragedy. To leave the confines of his past. To do more than survive, to do more than exist. To live.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8UuxIe8Sb3
The radio is broken and only plays static, so he's forced to hum his own tunes. Everything he's worth is shoved in the back seat, obscuring his already groggy vision. Fortunately, few people drive this way; if that wasn't the case, he was sure he'd be quite a hazard. Right now, the only concern is staying awake long enough to make it into town.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBDdHCx3FzZ
His tiredness is flashing in and out, like the beams of light that dance on his dashboard. He left early, without much thought. If he stayed one more day, he had feared his father's health. His father would never stop to try to fix him. To fix his wounded wings that are coated thick with oil. His old man began to suggest abhorrent things, desperate to correct a mistake not even made by himself.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRzQGDLioua
He couldn't do it anymore. To stay one more day in that haunting house. Filled with ghosts and ghouls of their past. To spend another moment looking at his mother's blank expression, conjuring up the syllables to spit out I love you, is too much to bear. He was worth more than his parent's desperate attempts at normalcy. At least he believed so. His leaving forces them to strip away from their tiny house in the middle of nowhere and to the city to get the proper care.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJlXy5Q3xS5
He planned it out so well, yet he panicked and ran when it came to the final act. He was waiting till he turned 18 but feared just another two weeks would be too long. Maybe it was the unbearable heaviness of these boulders that weighed on him, or perhaps it's the embedded happiness of the idea of being a new person.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfsXUnmlirB
In Logwood Bay, the humble people don't know him; they don't know his sickness. Some may know his father's desperate pleads, their good friend's Labour, but they don't know him; they don't know Everett Porter.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡj453S57Xgq
The young boy turned the corner off the main road. Rows of houses instantly greeted him. Logwood Bay is a fishing town; it's small and isolated, with only an estimated 5000 residents. As its name suggests, it has a large Bay that houses a few fishing boats. These boats are important, as they gather a staggeringly large quantity of fish. This product can sell for a pretty penny and is sold to fancy restaurants and butchers in the next few cities. This business is booming and can be seen as the main reason this little town stays afloat. It's a gorgeous town, small in size but large in sight. There's a haziness to it, almost haunting, but in a calming way, like a lullaby. A pallet of rich earthy tones that have been smeared with navy blue. A town carved from a palace of nature. A perfect place to escape.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXFSh9dPxcQ
It's silent, which he was not surprised about. He glanced for a second, off the road to look at the busted stereo—4:58am. The day was young, and the streets were bare. Not a person in sight. He bobbed along the road, further into town, he began to pass quaint mom-and-Pop looking shops that littered the side of the tiny streets. Imagining what the sidewalks, storefronts, and crosswalks would look like if filled with pedestrians, residents, and patrons—a busy little town filled with busy little people.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡchw6RMtPjx
However, he wasn't interested in the townsfolk, nor their little businesses. The young, fresh-faced boy only had one thing in his slated mind, and that was the docks. He glided down the wavy road, bumping to a stop once he reached the water. Parking in what he could only assume was an appropriate spot. The beat-up car came to a shaky halt, rattling violently before going silent. It was the entrance to the docks. Slightly to the side was a small plain-looking building that appeared to be an office. He jiggled the keys out and stuffed them in the pocket of his Sandy-coloured corduroy jacket. He unbuckled, allowing the seat belt to swing off his body. Collapsing back into the car seat. He let his head flop against the headrest, taking a deep breath, which was interrupted by a yawn. His shaky hands made their way to his temples, massaging them slightly, before sliding them up and pushing his messy fluffy auburn hair out of his face. A relaxation that didn't last long. Within minutes his body tensed up again as his mind floated back to the matter at hand.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoUAg4EAsKl
He was determined to find anyone. He was peering out, his eyes jumping from window to window and mirror to mirror. However, he could only see so much with all his crammed bags stacked high in the back seat. It left him no choice. It took a few good pushes to jam the driver's seat open. Swinging his left leg out and pushing himself up, he instantly felt a tingling sensation creep its way down, numbing his toes. A rather unpleasant feeling, yet there was something that filled him with joy. A victorious experience solidified by his quivering legs. It took over 2 hours trapped in that crammed vehicle, just himself and his cluttered consciousness. Battling his heavy eyes and revolting thoughts. Confined to an endless catacomb of self-destruction.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy2mmnB3N1b
He stammered to where the parking lot's gravel ended and where the edge of the docks began. Gleaming out into the dazzling ocean view. Lost in its endless glisten, a glassy sheet of its relentless hunger. He allowed himself to breathe. Stretching high into the crisp morning air and taking in the moment.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡol4K9H6B60
Everett Porter had a tall stature, long slender limbs that towered over most. He had broad shoulders that he didn't fill out, a lankiness that is common in many teens. There's a stiffness in his joints that makes him lumber, but there's a cautious aura that makes him skittish. He had an overall awkwardness that pulsed from his entire demeanor. His warm fawn colored skin with a gentle peach glow paired perfectly with his fluffy unkempt auburn hair. Bushy eyebrows framed his heart-shaped face and a larger upturned nose with an affectionate smile. Everett had a sweet and comforting appearance, the type that many seemed drawn to. The only thing that abruptly disoriented his warm sunniness was his eyes. Not in shape, they were large and round with thick straight eyelashes, but in colour. They were a piercing cool gray colour with flecks of soft amber. Fierce, aggressive eyes that ironically didn't match. He stood with a lazed poise, frightened by his own height. Unable to register his own surroundings, he was inevitably a clitz—a young man attempting to navigate his own awkwardness.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjB7uHZEc9l
He could feel the cool air fill his hazy lungs. Clearing them of all his toxins and creating a freshness that he craved. The sun was finally drifting above the mountainous horizon to warm the early July day. His meditative mind was interrupted when he heard the slam of a vehicle's door. Swinging his head in the direction of the sound, he noticed a tiny black car, and beside it, locking up, a shorter lady. She didn't pay much attention to Everett, to the point it appeared she was avoiding even acknowledging him. He watched her as she trotted past him and to the front door of the little office. He took a deep breath, keeping it in his lungs, as he approached the woman.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTsSnGymZOe
"Hello," Everett said in a calm tone, trying his best to seem friendly. The woman was in the process of opening the door but stopped with a sigh. She turned to face his direction, looking up and down. She was a short woman, petite in her frame. She appeared to be in her 40s, by the fine lines that littered her face. She had a short blonde bob that framed her delicate features. She stood with a sour expression; her bright blue eyes emphasized by her precise kohl eyeliner. After a moment of silence, the woman rolled her eyes, turning back to the door, key in hands.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡayzQYQgw0m
"I don't have any change on me, sorry," she replied in a monotone expression. Everett squinted his eyes, confused by her response. He had been exhausted from leaving so early and was trying his best to stand, let alone process anything in a timely fashion. He was wearing a baggy pair of light wash blue jeans ripped at the knees. Cinched just above his hips with a thick black belt and a black t-shirt tucked in. Of course, he was wearing his oversized corduroy jacket and his beat-up tennis shoes that once were white but now stained pewter, which was in complete contrast to the women's neat and tidy ensemble: an elegant blouse and mid-length flowy skirt. Everett's eyes went wide, and his face flushed a deep pink.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2RDkqcDPIk
"No, no, no, no," I'm looking for someone!" he frantically bleated. The woman paused while tapping her nails against the metal doorknob, like the tic of a clock. She huffed, shifting towards him again, her eyebrows raised high.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjoURTIpKcZ
"who." she bluntly spat.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIrzVG567An
"Doretha Miller." He announced. There was silence; even the crashing wave and screeching seagulls lay tranquil. The woman's face softened. Her shoulders relaxing, letting her hands fall to her side. The keys gently jostled as she did. She stood pondering, her tongue resting on one side of her cheek. Everitt stood restless, his thumbs gently twiddling impatiently. After a few moments, the woman straightens up, pushing her short blonde hair behind her ears, about to speak.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS8pQRzPDZf
"Is the door jammed again?" A deep groggy voice interrupted. Both Everett and the woman directed their attention behind them. There stood a stern, sturdy fellow. The woman let out a smile.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8XVKw5vS8j
"Tom, good morning, actually I was just chatting with this young man here." She explained, gesturing to a confused Everett. Her tone had completely changed, along with her mannerisms. The man looked at Everett, subtly examining the boy. His eyes seemed focused on the old worn-out corduroy jacket he was wearing. Beat up in a few places, like the hem and cuffs. It fit Everett quite strangely. The shoulders were close along with the length, but everything else was off. He was swimming in the body portion, so much so, that the coat all together made Everett appear larger than he was. Only with subtle movements did it reveal he had a much thinner frame.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw2Y8OL4tHg
The man's gaze climbed up to meet Everette's. He was shorter than Everett but much more solid. He stood with strength and poise. He had a square face with dark, piercing eyes. A long straight nose that slightly hooked down. He had deep bronze skin with light russet undertones, and his long slick black hair striped sliver was brushed back and tied in a low pony, around his almond-shaped eyes, where heavy bags. Like the woman, this man appeared to be in his 40s, maybe even a bit younger. However, unlike the women, this man had a charming disposition. Everett let out a large smile, accepting the stranger's acknowledgment.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNT0stpDGYY
"Everett Porter," he introduced to the older man. The man looked at him with gritted teeth, his head slightly nodding. A faded glimmer twinkled in his dark eyes, mimicking that of a child's amazement. Without hesitation, the man sauntered over and passed the other two. Pushing open the wooden door, he let the woman scurry in, glaring at Everett as she passed. The man made his way through as well but propped the door open with his other hand. Gesturing Everett to follow.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXU0UiyBBGz
Inside was the same plainness as the exterior. Off white coloured walls with reddish wood flooring. A few potted plants were scattered around, and a random assortment of pictures in non matching frames hung randomly. The woman had settled behind the front desk, flipping through a large stack of paper. The door gilded closed. The man continued to walk without saying anything, the floors squeaking with each step. Everett followed, trying his best to keep up without seeming rushed. They went behind the front desk, where another room was tucked away. This room seemed more personal, photos of smiling faces and odd little trinkets all around. The man plopped down with a deep sigh. Not a sign of tiredness, but one of relief. Taking a moment to settle into the wooden frame.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWyn7ZErlh4
"You're looking for Doretha Miller?" The man asked, peering up at Everett, who was standing under the doorway. He nodded his head. The man let out a slight chuckle.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr3ED68L6QN
"I'm her son, Thomas Miller," he said, straightening up. Everett's eyes grow wide, unable to contain his smile. He had never met Doretha, but she was described as the woman who gave his family some hope. If it wasn't for her, Everett didn't know what would have become of him. An uncontainable feeling bubbled inside him. The man couldn't help but sense this excitement that oozed off Everett. The man pursed his lips.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLFV2y1KxsT
"She died."618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDiZFwFzuiY
Everett stood shocked, unable to respond. He tried to conjure up a sentence to apologize but was left smacking his own lips together in desperation. Thomas didn't seem phased, instead, he turned his attention to a set of drawers beside him. Rummaging through its contents, and pulling out a small coiled black notebook. The cover was weathered and scuffed, the pages deformed and stained.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbCWwHlOhf1
"Don't be too alarmed; she died about a year ago." Thomas casually reassured. He began flipping through the little book, his fingers running down each page and skimming the text. Everett's eyes seemed to wonder, focusing on the tweed carpet at his feet. Devastated that his carefully calculated plan was crumbling each second. A plan that mostly relied on Doretha and her influence. Since she had a history with the Porters, he genuinely believed she was the only one to listen. Everett's face grows more somber, an empty, vacant hole engulfed his chest. The stinging sensation of defeat. However, Everett remembered why he was here. Remembering why he traveled so far in a beat-up rusted tin can of a vehicle. Away from his parents, who's love began to lay thin. Two empty shells that would do anything for their child, even lie about their own feelings. Leaving like a coward, when it was still dark, a scribbled note soaked in tears of his youth, remembering the pain that still pumped through his damaged body. Knowing if he whimpered back like a dog with its tail between its legs, claiming he was wrong, meant he accepted staying. Staying on living a life depended on his sick father and his shaky hands. To be dependent on someone who's body can't handle it anymore, questioning if he ever could. It meant he gave in to being nothing more than that tragic night that claimed him a reliability. Everett took a deep breath, gently raising his gaze up and towards the other man. Thomas had slipped a piece of paper in between two pages of the closed notebook, extending his arm out to hand it over.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYjvmxmCRHJ
"I know your father, I worked with him and his friend often, I know why he got the job, I know about you," Thomas explained in a soft hushed voice. "It's all written in here, on these pages, all my mother knew." Like a man approaching a stray with food, he had a calming tone. And despite the kind gesture, Everett already knew every word written in that little book, told, given, and sworn by his father.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk5hbxRU3Yz
"I want a job." He bluntly stated. Refusing to take the notebook from a dumbfounded Thomas. The little room's air grew thick, two men juggling a cumbersome situation. Finally, after what felt like forever, Thomas's face had gone stern. He sat back, lowing the book and gently fanning it as he collected his thoughts.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcI6qrDszuO
"I know your father can't work anymore-"618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOPfmT3nroC
"This is for me," Everett interjected. "This has nothing to do with him."618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9QV33JIhzd
Thomas hoisted himself up and off the chair, stretching his body straight. Everett's eyes fixed on his every movement. Biting his trembling lip. That empty, vacant hole now solidified into a violent lead pit. Thomas moved without much purpose, his slow, tedious steps making their way towards either Everett or the door. He stopped right in front of the teen whose eyes were slick with hopelessness.618Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVrQn8jhxJ6
"The boats should be back any moment; we'll find you something to do." He stammered past Everett, leaving him alone in the unfamiliar room. A slight chuckle came to him as he reached his hands into the pockets of his worn corduroy jacket and took a moment to relax, accepting this heaviness as comfort.8964 copyright protection614ＰＥＮＡＮＡv4r3GQRObV 維尼

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