Chapter OneMature

When the Peterson family move in and find that their next door neighbour boy to be nice but.... odd with a past that he's unwilling to reveal. They are willing to let it be until they can't ignore it any more.
Rule 12- Just because a person is flighty doesn't mean their wings work
Rule 93- You can force someone to jump, run and cry, but cannot force them to trust


White: the colour of freshly fallen snow; rich, crisp and full of life, his hair was so white that it almost looked fake, bleached; the only proof that it was his natural hair colour was the fact that the roots never faded or altered; staying that snow white. His eyes were a strange colour, as they were a light icy red; most people said they looked more like pink than they did red. Pure white hair, light icy red eyes that were surrounded with pale white skin, his nose was delicate, bottom lip fuller than the top. He was frail looking, as if one strong wind would break him, carrying off the pieces.

The day they had moved in, he was reading on his hammock in the backyard of his house. There was only a strip of lush green grass that acted as a fence between the two houses; leaving a clear view of the yard for anyone to see. As the movers’ workers unloaded the various vans that were full of furniture and boxes, a pale teenage girl walked into the backyard, looking curiously around like a young child would. She didn’t see him –through not many did. His hideout was after all in large oak tree, hidden among the leaves in a small treehouse with a large wooden porch, where his hammock was, tied up to two thick branches. The rope ladder was pulled up, coiled on the platform, rendering him out of reach, making it hard for someone to get him. It has always amused him how most people to forget to look up.

“Sweetie.” A woman wearing a Midnight blue dress called from the back door.

“I’m out here.” The girl responded.

“Come on in and help your dad set up the dining room.”

The girl turned back to the house, shacking her long black hair out of her eyes, taking long strides to get to the door and out of sight, leaving him to wonder about the new girl’s punk look that contrasted her laid back manner.

“Boy!” He heard his father yell from the kitchen window “Get inside… now.”

Sighing, he placed his well-loved book back into the waterproof box, which set in his treehouse walls and threw the rope ladder over the edge, quickly climbing down. The wind whipped his shaggy hair, swinging it around like a flag. As soon as his bare feet touched the ground he was off; running like he had hellhounds were after him.

“Yes?’ He politely asked, hovering near the island that was located in the centre of the kitchen.

“Don’t speak to me!” His dad snapped, as he walked towards him “Where’s my dinner?”

He stood still, sighing inwardly to himself.

“Answer me!” He demanded, as he slammed his son’s hips against the island.

“It’s on the table.” He gasped, as the pain shot through his hips.

“Next time I ask something, answer it the first time!”

Throwing him back; marching towards his dinner as he landed with a loud thump. Picking himself off the white floor: shaking his head as he as he closed the cherry wood cabinet doors that his dad had left open, going back outside to read his book. Outside the movers were still lugging things up the stone path. Pausing in what he was doing, more than happy to watch, though they ignored him and went about their jobs.

“Hello!” A loud voice boomed, causing him to jump and look where the noise had come from, a six and a half foot, ash blonde suffer looking boy. The boy was walking towards him, putting out his hand and said “I’m Christopher Pine Peterson. We’ve just moved in next door. What’s your name?”

“I’m Alex.” He responded, placing an appropriate smile on his face.

“It’s very nice to meet you Alex.” Chris said, as Alex put his hand in larger one; shaking it.

“Do you need any help?” Alex offered, right over a large crash that had come from the direction of the house that he lived in.


Walking to Chris’ new house, which was an olden style red brick building, elegantly framed with horticulture, dodging movers as they walked into the house. The inside of the house was coming together; pots and pans were going into to the shelves as the woman in the Midnight blue dress, with soft brown hair arranged the kitchen the way she wanted it.

“Hey mum.” Chris greeted “This is Alex. He wanted to know if he could help.”

“Hello Alex.” The kind woman said as she smiled at the young boy “My name is Lily Pastelle Peterson, but you may call me Lily.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Lily.” Alex said, smiling shyly back as her, she was very pretty and shared many factures with her son.

“Chris, darling, why don’t you introduce Alex to your sister and then you can make a start of your room.”

Chris kissed his mother’s tanned check, then leading Alex around the house, telling him where each room was in the progress. When they did make it upstairs they found a Raven haired girl; who Alex had seen in the yard earlier.

“Hey, Chris.” The girl said smiling from her spot next to a box of what seemed records “Who’s the boy?”

“This is Alex.” Chris introduced “He lives next door.”

“Alex.” The girl said, swishing the name around in her mouth “Is it short for something?”


“I approve. Hate when people shorten Alexander to Andy, I mean the two sound nothing a like.”

“So did my mum, that’s why she wanted it to be Alex.”

“Well, I’m Laurentia Ivory Rosamund Peterson, but you may call me Tia.”

“Want any help unpacking?” Alex asked, unsure on what to say to the two that he just met.

Tia’s answer was clear when she pushed a box at the white haired youth. The three spend the remaining afternoon unpacking and putting various belongings away. Tia and Chris did most of the talking, they told Alex about their old home, reliving the memories that each object they found had. When the work was done, and it was done very quickly, both Tia’s and Chris’ bedroom were unpacked and tidy.

“So Alex.” Tia said, as she sat down the last box was unpacked “How long have you lived here for?”

“We moved in eight years, eight months and twenty-four days ago.” Alex responded, with a shrug of his shoulders.

“How can you be so exact?” Chris asked, looking at the white haired youth like he started to speak Chinese.

“I’ve just have a really good memory.”

“Are you two hungry?” A man asked; with the same booming voice that Chris had, but still cause Alex to jump like it did with Chris.

“Yes!” Tia and Chris shouted at the same time, jumping up and pulling Alex to his feet.

“Who are you?” The man nicely asked, he was almost an exact version of an older Chris, the only difference was that his eyes were a lot darker than Chris light blue, almost Navy, and his face was a bit rounder than Chris’, not that you could tell just by looking at him, but his hair was the same blonde colour, he was just as tall and broad as his son.

“This is Alex.” Chris said for the third time that night, moving his hands expressively “He lives next door.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Alex.” The man said, a small smile showing on his slightly round face “I’m Robert July Peterson.”

“Hello.” Alex’s said; his voice soft.

“Dad.” Tia persisted “You were talking about food.”

“Oh, right.” Robert said “Well, your mum made some sandwiches, so why don’t we go down and have out first meal in our new house?”

“Yes.” Tia and Chris chorused

“And Alex, why don’t you join us?”

“Yes, sir.” Alex replied; keeping his voice soft.


The four of them trooped down the stairs like a parade of dancing apes, creating more noise with their feet, which echoed off of the bare walls of the stairwell. They soon joined Lily on the ground around a coffee table place in the living room, where she had already put the food down on.

“I’m sorry that we don’t have a table set up, yet.” Lily apologized.

“It’s alright.” Alex assured her “Thank you, very much for having me for dinner.”

“It’s never a problem dear.” Lily said, once again using a pet name, giving the impersonation to Alex that she was like a kind grandmother that everyone loves “Perhaps when we’re settled, we can have your parents over; as well.”

“I don’t know about that. My dad’s really busy with work.”

“Oh, well just you and your mother then!”

“I’m mum’s dead, actually.” Alex said; staring at the table like it was the most interesting thing in the room.

“Oh, dear.” Lily said, a hand flying to her heart, tears poured down her face, as if someone had turned on a tape behind them. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” Alex assured her, feeling a little, okay very awkward “It was almost nine years ago. She was very sick.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Robert said; a serious expression on his face as he turned to face his wife “Lily, why don’t you get the bottles of juice from the refrigerator?”

Lily nodded as she rushed from the coffee table, swiping her eyes as she tried to get her emotions back under control.

“So; Chris, Tia how old are the two of you?” Alex asked, changing the subject from the one of his family.

“We’re both seventeen.” Chris said.

“But I’m two weeks older.” Tia said a smug smile on her face.

“What about you?” Chris asked as he pushed his sister playfully.

“I’ll be seventeen in about three weeks.” Alex told them.

“What do you do to celebrate your birthday?” Chris asked, remembering what they did for his birthday this years and Tia’s of course. 

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have a party or go out to eat somewhere special?”

“No.” Alex bluntly said “I haven’t celebrated my birthday for years.”

“Why ever not.” Lily demanded, when she re-joined them, sitting down as she set the jug of Apple juice in the middle of the coffee table.

“I guess, that I’ve never really remembered it.” Alex told her, failing to see the problem with it “What’s the time?”

“It’s almost ten now.’ Robert told him, looking down at his sliver watch.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, but I better be going.” Alex said, as he hid his panic for being out so long. “What do I do with the plate?”

“Don’t worry about it, dear I’ll take care of it.” Lily said as she grabbed the empty plate.

“Thanks again for the lovely dinner.” Alex said, as he walked to the front door “Also thanks for having me over!”

He ran across the yard to the back door of his house and like a shadow entered without a sound. When he entered the kitchen; he saw that the sink was filled with dirty dishes from his dad’s meals from today. Flinching at the sound when he turned on the tap, warm water filled the sink; he made sure to take extra care when he cleaned the glass, making sure that it didn’t clang too much.

“Boy!” His dad screamed when he heard the running water “Where have you been?”

“I was just out.” Alex answered.

“Well get out here now!”

Alex turned off the tap and slowly approached the den where his dad was; drinking beer.

“You were out late.” He said “You know what the rules are.”

He made a gesture for Alex to pull up his jacket’s sleeves, and without a word, or complain he did, showing the scars on his wrists, all in different stages of healing; some were new and some were weeks, months, or years old. Alex closed his eyes, instead choosing to relive the afternoon to take his mind away from the pain. Putting his arms in front of him, a belt smacked him against his elbows, making new bruises and welts. He remembered the dinner with the Peterson family, instead of the harsh and uncaring leather that was hitting his skin. After five hits, his dad threw him back onto the floor.

“Get out of my sight!” He hissed.

Alex ran back outside and to the only place his dad couldn’t reach or touch him.      


Authors Note-

The plot doesn't belong to me, but to arianapeterson19 from, but she gave me permission to turn her fan fic into a 'real life' story.       

Can you tell me with I did a better job with the editing or the one before this was better and how I can improve this to make it more enjoyable to read.                      

The End

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