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    Brayon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

My Shorts, and Flash Fictions - 14. One Word Prompt - “Exile”

A quickie based on the One Word Prompt list. RNGed the word: Exile.

“You’re no son of mine,” the large man said, with barely contained rage. “I do not have a fucking faggot for a son. Now, get out of my house!”

Dexter ran from the house, as his father moved to grab a baseball bat. He snagged the bag, he had prepared ahead of time that sat on the porch and ran to his brother’s car. Dexter hopped into the backseat of the convertible, and yelled, “DRIVE!!!”

“NEVER COME BACK... NEVER COME BACK!!! YOU’RE EXILED!!!” His Father yelled as the car rocketed down the street.

The neighborhood was run downed, and most houses were vacant and in disrepair. Dexter’s old house was barely above that standard. He looked at the house retreating in the distance and regretted nothing about his actions just now. He was thankful that he got away unscathed; his brother wasn’t as lucky a couple of years earlier.

His father was a drunk and a drug addict and worked under the table while collecting disability from the city, all thanks to the Union. He was mean, nasty, and Dexter hated him with a passion. A union shill, who didn’t matter to anyone.

“You got everything little bro?” His brother asked from the front seat.

“I do, Kevin,” Dexter said, as he sat up, and buckled in. He let out a sigh, “Thanks for getting me out of there.”

“No worries. We’re brothers and we stick together,” Kevin said. He steered the car onto the interstate and merged into traffic.

The wind kicked up, with the top down, and made talking impossible. Dexter sat in the backseat and thought about what had transpired. He finally felt free. A smile came to his face, and he watched the road as his brother drove.

Cars whipped by as Kevin drove the short distance on the interstate and took an exit into a different section of the city. In short order, they pulled into the driveway of a lush one-story Craftsman home. “Here we are, little bro. You’re new home.”

“Thanks. You’re sure I can stay here?” Dexter asked as he hopped out of the car with his bag.

“As long as you need too. My place is your place,” Kevin said and ruffled Dexter’s already messy hair. “Just remember that my Husband works nights, so he sleeps during the day.”

The brothers stepped into the house and Dexter into his new life away from his abusive father.

No plans to continue the this story. Though, I may recycle the characters into another story.
Copyright © 2017 BHopper2; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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