FA+
Shop
Sparks of Bucking Bronco - 6
7 years ago
General
Chapter 6: Peace is the Eye of the Storm
His dad was downstairs hanging a new bag in the basement. Power tools could be heard from the basement door whirling away at screws, bolts, and other things to create a better, and more stable, training area for Buck. Buck sat on his bed, cross-legged. His muzzle had the expression of glee upon it. For one, he finally got praise from his father. Him knocking down that bag was a milestone for him, and Bruce actually spoke towards him with positivity. He thinks back to what he heard his father say,
“You fucking did it. Wow. Never thought you could you son of a bitch...”
It wasn’t the most loving praise, but it was praise nonetheless. Nothing was thrown at him, nothing was sworn. He almost flinched at the feeling of Bruce’s rough hoof patting Buck’s head. He never had that experience before. It made him feel happy and giddy inside. He sat there and rocked back and forth, letting out a satisfied neigh. His actions seemed more like a fangirl’s reaction to seeing their favorite boy band but Buck knew that wasn't it. It was the recognition. He grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly, eyes closed as he sighed with content. He planned on telling his mother as soon as she got home from work. She was actually pretty late though. Her job was a normal 9-5 one, which made her come home around 6 o’clock.
It was 7:30pm.
He looked out his window as he watched some kids playing basketball in the neighbor’s driveway. They had a hoop set up, tall enough so that none of them could dunk, but short enough for them to actually make a shot with minimal effort. He watched them often, usually jealous of their lives. But today he wasn’t at the moment. Today, he did something worthwhile for a change, at least in his father’s eyes. He smiled as he watched them play, one of the kids shooting a shot and missing completely. He thinks back to all of the other times he watched them play. It had been ever since he could remember seeing through the window. The hoop had risen in height for years when they grew up. But for how long Buck had lived there, he never knew their names. He wasn’t ever given the chance to get their names. It wasn’t like it mattered though. He could never be friends with them. They would probably have the same resentment that his father usually had towards him.
Distancing himself from his thoughts, Buck shook his head and got up from his bed. He walked to his door, peeking around the corner for any signs of life. He only heard his dad still fumbling with the chain in the basement. His grin returned as he walked from his room and straight to the bathroom. He entered and looked at himself in the mirror and turned the water on. His hooves gathered water and splashed it on his muzzle as his eyes looked onward at his reflection. The swelling under his eye had subsided. That fight from a couple days ago had really taken its toll on him. Granted, he never had such a close call before. It made him shudder knowing that he could’ve actually died that night. It also reminded him that even though his father was happy at the moment, he wasn’t going to stay that way. If anything, his new breakthrough probably enticed his father into submitting him into more fights just so that he could the money back that Buck lost.
The money back that Bruce stole.
The money back that Bruce stole from his mother.
He looked towards the bathroom door, hearing his dad walking up the stairs. He shook his head and dried it with a small towel before hanging it back up on the towel rack and turning off the water. He opened the door to see his father reaching for the doorknob of the bathroom. His father blinked and looked down at Buck, an even expression on his face,
“Move.”
Buck instantly moved out of the way, stepping into the hallway against the wall. His father walked in, shutting the door lightly behind him as Buck heard a small lock click into place. He stayed against the wall, his mind racing on his father not cursing at him, throwing something at him, or beating him senseless. He whispered to himself as he walked back to his own room,
“Am I really in the clear?”
He sat on his bed and laid backwards, staring up at the ceiling. His blue tank top hung loosely on his frame, making him seem smaller than usual. He thought about going downstairs to see what his dad had set up for the basement training, since he destroyed the bag. Buck rolled over sighing and unfurled his wings slightly so that they weren’t as stiff. He glanced at the clock and saw that only 15 minutes had passed. But his mother still wasn’t home. Usually she’d bring home something to eat too, like McDonalds or something.
Buck’s stomach growled in response to his delicious thoughts. His hoof went to his stomach as he laid there, wondering what was taking her so long. Sitting up slowly, his mane falling to one side of his head, he swiveled his legs off the edge of his bed, feeling antsy from his recent adrenaline rush. Knowing no other way of ridding his energy, he started hopping from one hoof to the other, mimicking his training on the boxing bag. He threw a couple jabs, uppercuts, hooks, and crosses, aiming at an invisible center in front of him. His breaths were quick and shallow with each one, his stomach tightening from years of practice each time. Not feeling his energy diminishing, he laid down, planting his hooves under the bed for stability. His mane flopped up and down along with his crunches. After a couple minutes of continuous exercising, he rolled backwards, pushing off the ground, and standing back up straight. He sighed loudly, and looked outside his bedroom window again, watching the kids continue their game of basketball hoping that their game would bore him to sleep or at least get him tired, however unlikely. An eyebrow raised on his head as he looked through the slightly dirty window pane.
They weren’t there.
And as if an answer to his immediate question following, he heard a doorbell ring throughout his house. He jumped slightly from the sound, not really used to getting a lot of visitors, besides DCFS. He walked to his door, peeking around the corner towards the front door. He saw his father’s back as Bruce held open the door, a beer bottle in one hoof. Buck looked between the bigger stallion’s legs and saw the figure of another person, slightly skinny and shifting to and fro in Bruce’s presence. He couldn’t hear the words uttered between the two, but when he saw his father look back towards Buck’s room, his head disappeared quickly.
“Buck, get out here.”
He tensed up, not knowing if he was caught eavesdropping. He walked out of his room, and towards the slightly ajar door.
“Yes?”
“The neighborhood kids want you to join them outside.”
Without thinking, Buck laughed out loud
“Sorry sir, I don’t get the joke.”
His father rolled his eyes and stepped to the side, revealing another kid standing on the other side of the door. Said kid held a basketball in front of their chest, their tail flicking back and forth with excitement. Buck looked dumbfounded, his wings falling loosely along his back as he heard the kid speak, his hooves shoved deep into the shallow pockets of his red cargo shorts; the kid’s ears twitched as he chuckled watching Buck curiously, a scarf around his neck, flowing slightly in the wind even though it was nearly 60 degrees outside. His grin showed two fangs overlapping his teeth on each side of his muzzle. The basketball was covering his bare chest as he shuffled slightly to peer inside the house before smiling again at Buck.
“Hey there mate. Name’s Ghozt. We need a new member, Jordan had to leave early...”
His dad was downstairs hanging a new bag in the basement. Power tools could be heard from the basement door whirling away at screws, bolts, and other things to create a better, and more stable, training area for Buck. Buck sat on his bed, cross-legged. His muzzle had the expression of glee upon it. For one, he finally got praise from his father. Him knocking down that bag was a milestone for him, and Bruce actually spoke towards him with positivity. He thinks back to what he heard his father say,
“You fucking did it. Wow. Never thought you could you son of a bitch...”
It wasn’t the most loving praise, but it was praise nonetheless. Nothing was thrown at him, nothing was sworn. He almost flinched at the feeling of Bruce’s rough hoof patting Buck’s head. He never had that experience before. It made him feel happy and giddy inside. He sat there and rocked back and forth, letting out a satisfied neigh. His actions seemed more like a fangirl’s reaction to seeing their favorite boy band but Buck knew that wasn't it. It was the recognition. He grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly, eyes closed as he sighed with content. He planned on telling his mother as soon as she got home from work. She was actually pretty late though. Her job was a normal 9-5 one, which made her come home around 6 o’clock.
It was 7:30pm.
He looked out his window as he watched some kids playing basketball in the neighbor’s driveway. They had a hoop set up, tall enough so that none of them could dunk, but short enough for them to actually make a shot with minimal effort. He watched them often, usually jealous of their lives. But today he wasn’t at the moment. Today, he did something worthwhile for a change, at least in his father’s eyes. He smiled as he watched them play, one of the kids shooting a shot and missing completely. He thinks back to all of the other times he watched them play. It had been ever since he could remember seeing through the window. The hoop had risen in height for years when they grew up. But for how long Buck had lived there, he never knew their names. He wasn’t ever given the chance to get their names. It wasn’t like it mattered though. He could never be friends with them. They would probably have the same resentment that his father usually had towards him.
Distancing himself from his thoughts, Buck shook his head and got up from his bed. He walked to his door, peeking around the corner for any signs of life. He only heard his dad still fumbling with the chain in the basement. His grin returned as he walked from his room and straight to the bathroom. He entered and looked at himself in the mirror and turned the water on. His hooves gathered water and splashed it on his muzzle as his eyes looked onward at his reflection. The swelling under his eye had subsided. That fight from a couple days ago had really taken its toll on him. Granted, he never had such a close call before. It made him shudder knowing that he could’ve actually died that night. It also reminded him that even though his father was happy at the moment, he wasn’t going to stay that way. If anything, his new breakthrough probably enticed his father into submitting him into more fights just so that he could the money back that Buck lost.
The money back that Bruce stole.
The money back that Bruce stole from his mother.
He looked towards the bathroom door, hearing his dad walking up the stairs. He shook his head and dried it with a small towel before hanging it back up on the towel rack and turning off the water. He opened the door to see his father reaching for the doorknob of the bathroom. His father blinked and looked down at Buck, an even expression on his face,
“Move.”
Buck instantly moved out of the way, stepping into the hallway against the wall. His father walked in, shutting the door lightly behind him as Buck heard a small lock click into place. He stayed against the wall, his mind racing on his father not cursing at him, throwing something at him, or beating him senseless. He whispered to himself as he walked back to his own room,
“Am I really in the clear?”
He sat on his bed and laid backwards, staring up at the ceiling. His blue tank top hung loosely on his frame, making him seem smaller than usual. He thought about going downstairs to see what his dad had set up for the basement training, since he destroyed the bag. Buck rolled over sighing and unfurled his wings slightly so that they weren’t as stiff. He glanced at the clock and saw that only 15 minutes had passed. But his mother still wasn’t home. Usually she’d bring home something to eat too, like McDonalds or something.
Buck’s stomach growled in response to his delicious thoughts. His hoof went to his stomach as he laid there, wondering what was taking her so long. Sitting up slowly, his mane falling to one side of his head, he swiveled his legs off the edge of his bed, feeling antsy from his recent adrenaline rush. Knowing no other way of ridding his energy, he started hopping from one hoof to the other, mimicking his training on the boxing bag. He threw a couple jabs, uppercuts, hooks, and crosses, aiming at an invisible center in front of him. His breaths were quick and shallow with each one, his stomach tightening from years of practice each time. Not feeling his energy diminishing, he laid down, planting his hooves under the bed for stability. His mane flopped up and down along with his crunches. After a couple minutes of continuous exercising, he rolled backwards, pushing off the ground, and standing back up straight. He sighed loudly, and looked outside his bedroom window again, watching the kids continue their game of basketball hoping that their game would bore him to sleep or at least get him tired, however unlikely. An eyebrow raised on his head as he looked through the slightly dirty window pane.
They weren’t there.
And as if an answer to his immediate question following, he heard a doorbell ring throughout his house. He jumped slightly from the sound, not really used to getting a lot of visitors, besides DCFS. He walked to his door, peeking around the corner towards the front door. He saw his father’s back as Bruce held open the door, a beer bottle in one hoof. Buck looked between the bigger stallion’s legs and saw the figure of another person, slightly skinny and shifting to and fro in Bruce’s presence. He couldn’t hear the words uttered between the two, but when he saw his father look back towards Buck’s room, his head disappeared quickly.
“Buck, get out here.”
He tensed up, not knowing if he was caught eavesdropping. He walked out of his room, and towards the slightly ajar door.
“Yes?”
“The neighborhood kids want you to join them outside.”
Without thinking, Buck laughed out loud
“Sorry sir, I don’t get the joke.”
His father rolled his eyes and stepped to the side, revealing another kid standing on the other side of the door. Said kid held a basketball in front of their chest, their tail flicking back and forth with excitement. Buck looked dumbfounded, his wings falling loosely along his back as he heard the kid speak, his hooves shoved deep into the shallow pockets of his red cargo shorts; the kid’s ears twitched as he chuckled watching Buck curiously, a scarf around his neck, flowing slightly in the wind even though it was nearly 60 degrees outside. His grin showed two fangs overlapping his teeth on each side of his muzzle. The basketball was covering his bare chest as he shuffled slightly to peer inside the house before smiling again at Buck.
“Hey there mate. Name’s Ghozt. We need a new member, Jordan had to leave early...”
