Why? Because these entries are getting boring and I have nothing new to say. Read this at your own discretion and if you suffer from brain damage from this seriously unedited first draft (wow, this part sounds like an attempt to draw good comments…), please note that I cannot be held accountable.
A tall, rough looking man stomped toward William Brown, who sat on his porch with a little blond boy in his lap. The man smirked slightly.
So he has a son. That was certainly make negotiations easier.
The man coughed loudly to announce his presence. William looked up, his expression became uneasy, recognizing the man that stood before him. He lifted his son from his lap and stood up quickly.
“Horace,” William nodded stiffly, “I believe I have a day still.”
“John would disagree,” the man named Horace replied, “he wants it. Now.”
“I will get it to you,” William replied harshly, “in twenty-four hours.”
“Daddy,” the little boy looked curiously up at his father, “Daddy, who’s that?”
William’s angry face quickly turned tender, he leaned down and whispered in his son’s ear, “Olly, wanna play hide and seek?”
Olly nodded his head eagerly.
“Okay, you go hide first,” William told him, “I’ll count. One… two…”
Olly ran off quickly to find a hiding spot. He turned his head back to see his father turn back to face the other man, who had his arm crossed and an annoyed expression on his face. He ran all around the perimeter of the house to find that the best hiding spot was a bush right by where his father was. Loud voices drifted over to him. Olly covered his ears slightly.
Yelling’s not okay. His mom told him that everyday, he knew that his dad knows it too, but why was his dad breaking such an imporant rule to his mom then? Olly peeked out of his bush to see his dad and the man called Horace arguing, both had their arms crossed, both wore harsh expressions.
Daddy looks mad, Olly thought.
Suddenly, Horace uncrossed his arms and shoved his dad roughly. Olly gasped loudly as his dad fell to the ground.
“Stop!” Olly yelled. He ran up to the man and swiftly kicked him in the shin, “You don’t hurt Daddy!”
“Oliver, go hide!” William shouted in alarm. He pointed a finger at Olly, lifting Olly off the ground, opened the front door and sent him inside.
Olly landed on the living room, by the feet of his mother. He crossed his arms and pouted.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” his mom asked, picking him up and sat him in her lap.
“An ugly man came and hurt Daddy,” Olly huffed.
“Really?” his mom asked curiously, her eyebrow raised.
“Yeah,” Olly nodded, “I wanted to help Daddy. I went and kicked the ugly man.”
His mom gasped loudly, “Olly, we don’t kick.” She shook her head at him.
“But the ugly man pushed Daddy. Daddy fell down.”
“Doesn’t matter what the ugly man did, we don’t hit or kick,” his mom reprimanded him softly. Her eyebrows were drawn slightly together in a frown.
Olly huffed and crossed his arms. He leaned back against his mom. His mom stroked his hair slowly.
“What did the man look like?” his mom asked.
“Really, really ugly,” Olly turned around in his mom’s lap and with both hands, he held her face.
His mom laughed loudly, “As ugly ogres?”
“Uglier!” Olly shouted, “And smellier!”
“That ugly?” his mom asked in shock.
Olly nodded quickly. “That ugly!”