(Hey all heres my new story idea which is a kind of add on to the Harwell Homestead series I’ve been writing. This is going to be semi only first person with Bill but its more of a orgin story of Atlas and a little bit of Steven but mainly Atlas)
(Another side note is that the start of the story takes place before the fluffy herds really got out and started causing serious global issues, they are a small pain to farmers but its not serious yet)
–A snippet of Bill’s diary about himself–
Well my therapist told me I should write about myself to keep myself outta trouble so here I go. Howdy to anybody reading this here diary of mine, whether I am alive or have passed away I hope ya asked permission from me before you took a gander at this here book. Now anyway the names Bill WaltenHeim and I am a 64 year old farmer, I was raised on this very same farm by my pa and ma along with my lil brother Georgie, who sadly passed away at the age of 15 due to a boating accident, but none the less even with lots of land we still didn’t have much growing up so once we made it big in farming I still wasn’t one to ask for much as if I truely wanted it I’d just do it my self. Even at my old age the help of others is both a insult and annoyance to me.
For the longest time I used to live alone, only occasionally being annoyed by those genetic freaks thr kids call fluffies. Heck I call em fun to stomp on and while I often dispised most of the nearby youths due to their awful rock music or shit they call hip hap or whatever. I was soon humbled to learn there was one who acted like me in most ways. His name was Atlas Harwell. Both one of the biggest sources of joy (and pain) in my life. He arrived on my doorstep on day which was a bit strange as I lived out in a private piece of land and honestly I didn’t know my neighbors much as I wasnt to social. It was a dark and stormy night, a real nasty storm which the county hadn’t seen the likes of in ages which was good as those fluffy menaces often causes issues but the storms often killed a lot of them off. He was a rather short young man who had a small bad with him who was covered with bruises and some various cuts and while I wasn’t a fan of kids he was roughly in his young teens. He introduced himself as a neighbor of his and just asked to stay in my barn temporarily as him and his dad was fighting. I soon met his father who came a knocking for the boy who I begrudgingly let stay in my barn area for the night. His father was Darius Harwell a notorious asshole and scam artist who often would do anything for a dollar. His parents weren’t the best but I soon learned the true cruelty of not just them but of all of my neighbors. When his father arrived shotgun in hand asking if I’d seen his boy and what not but having seen his boys state I simply shrugged and said I had no clue who he was talking about. Soon though, I began to see Atlas more and more, looking more and more angry and bruises as the days went along. Soon however I instead of feeling uncaring or indifferent I felt bad for him, and one way when he came to my doorstep with a particularly large gash on his face I soon took him in. I asked him what had happened as per usual after I took pictures of his condition to cover my ass legally and such. While I am a normally calm man I was angered by his response which shocked me a bit.
“Well my dad caught me fighting with other neighborhood kids again…” he said with a determined look in his eyes. I simply sighed and walked into the bathroom to fetch my first aid kit to patch him up. “So why did you fight the kids eh?” I asked curiously as I started to stitch the cut up. “Well they accused me of holding hands with that faggot in the corner lot, Im no faggot lover!” He said angrilly as I frowned at his response unhappy to hear him using those words. "And what has that gay boy done to you huh? Last time I checked they are pretty fucking harmless you know, hateful people get what’s going for them, so well all I can say is that gash was natures was of retribution. I said cutting the medical string as I finished stitching him up.
“Well mah daddy always told me that fags deserve all that they get in life and then some. They are the scourge of the earth and all they wanna do is touch little boys and spread their illnesses.” He said like he was spitting hateful venom with each word.
“Well hateful bastards who hurt the defenseless are even worse in my opinion because that gay kid is younger than you aint he?” I said back to him in the same biting tone that he showed me which seemingly caught him off guard a bit.
“Well… yeah but hes not to much younger than me, hes still a faggot younger or not.” He said trying to prove his awfully ridiculous point still.
“Well Atlas I thought you were better than that, fighting is one thing, but picking on those weaking than you, gay, straight, retarded, or otherwise is shitty and fucking cowardly. I expected you to have a fucking spine unlike your daddy but I guess I was wrong. I patched you up so go the fuck home.” I spat back at him who seemed to be mad that I insulted him and his father.
“Well fine I didn’t know you were a fag lover” he said with a glare.
“No boy I don’t care about em, good or bad I hate fucking cowards who pick on those who can’t defend themselves.” I said back at him as he headed to the door.
“Hateful people reach hateful ends Atlas, I’ve lived long enough to learn that first hand, make smarter decisions next time and I may actually feel bad for you then. But for now I have no mercy or care for you, head on back home and own up to your fuck ups.” I said with a sense of disdain towards him based on his actions.
“Yeah yeah whatever old man, its not like you actually understand everything you geriatric pansey.” He said scoffing at me which made me laugh.
“I may be in my fifties but I still got more kick and snap that a weak spineless bitch like you or your pussy of a father too so maybe learn from my teaching and don’t belittle those that you see as beneath you as it might be that you are the one truly beneath them.” I said before he rolled his eyes and walked out the door headed to home.
I didn’t see Atlas for a while after then either because he stayed out of trouble or because he didn’t want the lectures I often gave when I cleaned him up. I did however learn of the kid who he’d been beating on for quite some time. A small but spunky boy named Steven LeClaire, the only son of the LeClaire Homestead who seemingly had either evicted him at the age of 14 or had basically abandoned him leaving him yo survive on his own in the abandoned shack out on the corner of my property. I didn’t know even of its existence until I noticed a small fire built nearby it and well since it was late fall almost early winter it was real cold. I had taken off in my old chevy pickup truck on the hunt for whatever whoever made that fire. While I was familiar with poachers and the like I had a feeling this wasn’t it as they typically didn’t make fires or even stayed where they hunted, they’d simply swoop in, take what they came for and left as fast as they could. So when I stumbled upon the ricky old house with a small fire nearby I knew it wasn’t going to find poachers, but I was even more surprised to find a boy had taken up residence in the small shack. At first when I met him we was apprehensive, flighty, and all around not wanting to be in my presence. Honestly I couldn’t blame the boy as he’d had a rough life so far, after talking to him Id peiced together what had happened which lead him to this shitty rundown shack. Initially he lived there as a place to avoid the rain when he wanted to get out of the house when his parents where fighting but when his mom got a new husband he was abusive and insanely aggressive, so much so he just packed up and left. To make things worse I eventually figured this was the kid Atlas had talked about or I had heard about from Atlas. Eventually against my better judgment at the time I decided to offer my spare room to the poor boy who I honestly felt bad for due to all his misfortunes and issues he had, almost all of which weren’t his fault or under his control. While nervous at first he accepted as well if he didn’t I think he knew he’d either starve or freeze to death and those are both knarly ways to go. After taking him home I let him warm up and clean himself off, something which he seemingly hadn’t done in a long time. I then also made a nice pot of soup for dinner, something which when he dug into made him tear up a bit as it’d been ages since anyone had shown him kindness let alone cared enough about him to actually make him food of any kind. That night honestly I felt good for the first time in a long while. I didn’t feel empty or emotionless. The next few days was the same old same old. Id go off to work and leave Steven at home to watch tv or do other things. He was a bright boy atleast and was good at helping me with my electronics. I wasn’t gifted in the ways of electronics and such so he was often a great help in that regard but eventually as I figured trouble came a knocking one particularly cold day when early one sunday morning I was awoken by loud harsh banging and slurred angry speak coming from my front door. After peeking through the peekhole I could make out that it was a drunken man and a women but I couldn’t tell who because of how they carried themselves and how drunk they were at the ass crack of dawn. After I grabbed my shotgun that I kept nearby the front door I opened it only to be met by a angry drunk man and a equally drunk women.
“W-we want our f-faggot son B-bill give em… the fu-fuck u-up n-now!” The man said with anger in his tone as he stared daggers down at him. In that moment I realized just what poor bastards these 2 sorry fucks were and what they wanted but unfortunately for them it was both to early for me to give a fuck or want to agree to their request. They only wanted the boy so they could get some tax write off or some government assistance but honestly I still didn’t care.
“He’s not here and if he was I’d still not give em to you. Mary you and I both know you why he ran away, you just want him for the government assistance. So why don’t you and your drunk as shit boyfriend or husband or whatever this pathethic fuck of a man infront of me off my goddamned land before I get real angry and this gets ugly.” I said in my usual cold and dead tone, the tone that often caused the most determined to waver and flee.
“Hey we just want him home ok Bill we realized our mistakes ok?” Mary said to me in a fake surgery tone that made me vomit.
“Well your a little to late now” I said as Steven peaked around the corner to see who I was talking to before ducking back in panic upon seeing his shitass parents.
“H-hey get back here Now! you fucking pathetic bitch!” His father said before he tried and failed to push past me before I pumped he handle of my shotgun.
“You lying bitch let me through!” He said before I aimed the barel in his direction which made him step back slightly.
“Yeah I don’t fucking think so bub get out, I’d rather not splatter your ass along my drive way but hey I am not letting you into my house for anything.” I said dryly as the two seemed taken aback by my sudden aggressive actions.
“Well lets not get hasty now Bill we can uh talk t-this out right?” Mary said to me as she tried to slowly approach me.
In response to her I aimed my shotgun high above the two of them and pulled the trigger letting out a large and loud blast before racking another shell into the chamber.
“That was a warning shot Mary I’m not in the mood for talking now go on and git, you don’t even want the boy so leave him be.” I said as they resigned themselves and got back into their shitbox pickup truck and left begrudgingly. After I watched them leave I unloaded the round out of the chamber and put away my shotgun as I turned to face Steven who seemed happy to not been forced to go with the two assholes.
“Relax Steven the excitement is over do you wanna have some breakfast since our rude guests woke us up earlier?” I said kindly to which he seemed happy to do. For a boy his size he could sure each which was good as I often made way to much for myself when I used to cook for myself only. After that morning of excitment not much else happened for the long while. Steven gained a interest in cooking and often helped out in the kitchen he soon began to grow into a decent well manored boy. Better than my other son who rarely visited or even called. Which to be honest was fine since Steven was kind of like my son at that point. I mean soon after the winter had came and gone I was paid a visit by Atlas again who once again was banged up and bruised from some scrap or brawl he’d gotten into.
“So what was it this time Atlas? What trouble did you get into this time?” I asked as I led him inside to fix him up like usual.
“Oh me and my dad got into a well… uh disagreement on some things and well you know we fought it out a bit.” He said sheepishly.
“Well I haven’t seen the other side but it seems you lost, so what was this “disagreement?” That caused you and your dad to fight eh?” I asked as I called for Steven to fetch my first aid kit from the bathroom.
“Well he doesn’t want me to work at the Richmond automotive store because its owned by a faggot but honestly I didn’t think he was to bad” he said with a sigh.
While his wording irritated me it seemed that my nagging might’ve actually gotten to the boy seeming as when Steven came in with the first aid kit, Atlas seemed a bit hesitant to look Steven in the eyes. Perhaps out of disgust or shame either way if he tried anything id put his ass on the ground faster than he could say that blasted slur for the gays.
“Oh Steven meet Atlas he’s a neighbor of mine who lives about a short walk from here” I said causually as Steven nodded and said back.
“Yeah I uh know him we are semi acquainted” Steven said back as he went into the kitchen to make lunch.
That caused me to laugh a bit as I gave Atlas a telling look. “I knew you knew Steven already Atlas, I’m still just trying to teach you a lesson of judgement, judging others is for those who cannot be judged themselves and I think we all can be judged one way or another.” I said with a chuckle.
“Well yeah but why did you bother taking him in huh? You had no good reason to I bet hes a bother and a half for a old man like you” he retorted back with a snear.
“Oh come now Atlas I’m not nearly that old I’m in my fifties and he is great help with cooking, cleaning, and technology and the like” I retorted back.
This caught Atlas off guard as he sat back and just kinda sat with his thoughts as he realized not all had been as it seemed before.
After I finished patching him up I invited him to stay for lunch since it was a bit last noon at that point. He reluctantly agreed and soon Steven had finished lunch which was a potato soup which was both of our favorites and while Steven wasn’t all to happy to welcome Atlas he reluctantly agreed to but he sat next to me and not across from Atlas. As we all sat and at Atlas thanked us for the meal as he continued to avoid Stevens gaze entirely. Steven seemed semi uneasy of Atlas’s presence but since I was there we was fine. After lunch the two went out into the kitchen while I cleaned up the dishes. This kind of routine kind of occured for a week or more until eventually Steven asked me if Atlas would he able to sleep on the couch since he was having a seriously rough time with his father, and well still against my better judgment I agreed and our little routine kind of continued until harvest time was upon us. I often didn’t need help but in recent years the fluffies have been causing more and more issues as they began to eat my crops more. I eventually resorted to using my old family long rifle to take them out but even with my good job I wasn’t able to always get them all. However upon seeing this Atlas gained a big fascination with firearms, long rifles like my own expecially, so on his 16th birthday that year I got him one of his own and took him out to the fields to practice his aim. At first, his shot was poor but as he used the rifle more his body got used to its weight and his aim improved immensely. He was like the version of my own son but he enjoyed hunting and fishing instead of sitting at home all day. It was quite nice and after a few run ins with his dad, we didn’t have issues with either of their parents attempting to barge in. Honestly things all seemed fine until that faithful day a few years later when the breakout occured. A hasbio facility nearby had a malfunction and their chemical feed combusted which allowed their test subjects into the wild which caused what Atlas called as bitch mares, smarties, and the special ones in smarties. They were more vicious, often were destructive towards my fields and farm. That happened about right after Steven’s graduation from high school. So at that point it left me and Atlas to handle it on our own, I was lost for ideas however Atlas was full of them. His best idea was a snipers nest on top of the house which he could use to pick off those shitbag bastards if they emerged from the forests nearby. Thanks to him I could still often harvest and maintain the animals but it often hard to avoid those fluffy scourges. It was that way for a few years but it all changed when Steven came back to us from college bit battered and unwell in life, he had found a lover who had forgotten the love part but honestly as most others did I showed his puni ass the door all the same but eventually he left again as did Atlas to join the army to serve his country. I made to tell him I was proud of him and that he was to return in one peice. I wanted my son back after all, and I wasnt talking about the one in jail.
Years went by and I got to old to handle the threats of the fluffies. I gave up farming entirely but I was lucky enough to have saved up a good amount to get me by. While life got lonely I got a nice old cat named tipsy but she too came and left like the boys did and while atlas visited one a month of I wished it was more often. I soon learned Steven had moved into the property nearby but when I went over to see him I was only met with a boy who I hadn’t raised. He was cold, calculated uncaring of his work or those around him. He was robotic and honestly it broke my heart to see him fall from that shy young boy who had a bright adorable smile…
Soon Atlas stopped visiting as work became more stressful but eventually I got a card from him asking for advice. His parents had passed and he inherited their huge sum of money and he didn’t know what to do with it. I gave him the best advice an old man like me could give him. “Follow the path in life that makes you happy”. To my surprise a month later he moved into the property a year later. While he had been through a lot he always a quick witted charmer and I was glad he hadn’t changed much. While he told me about a few flings he had gotten himself into none of them seemed to stick around but soon one fateful morning I heard a knocking from a feral herd like most mornings but this time my barncat wasn’t able to shoo them off, she’d had her kittens and thus was busy parenting so I reluctantly called Atlas and while I know he had his own herd issues I always hated being a bother to him and Steven. To my surprise however I was greeted by them both. A grinning excited Atlas (who was always down for a good hunt when offered it) and to my own disbelief a more relaxed Steven who seemed to be a lot closer to him, dare I say wrapped around the hips if know what I mean. They made short work of the issues and then we had a grand old chat where I gave Atlas the details of my wealth. As I know my son is getting out of jail soon and frankly I don’t owe him shit. He is a disappointment like his mother and to assume he’d get anything is a bold move on his part. I’m frankly ashamed to be related to him and sad I’m not related to Atlas or Steven. Either way I planned to leave it all to those two since they’ve not only cared for me though the best and worst times. They let me be a parent again, to be actually proud of my sons. It wad nice and honestly I don’t regret for a minute my decision to let them into my home. While life had its ups and its downs things turned out well in the end. As I sit here on my porch, as I watch them drive away again I hope they visit me tomorrow as I do still enjoy every second of their company. Who knows maybe those feral herds are a good thing after all…
(Hey all sorry if this story is a bit jumbled at times it kinda wrote it in like 4 different bursts / mindsets. But honestly I do feel like this story fills in holes and semi explains things however it is from Bill’s perspective and he’s a old man so it might not all be correct but for the most part hes semi correct. Sorry I haven’t been as active recently as irl life has gotten crazy I am hoping to be able to write more often in the next month as I honestly do miss writing but I feel like I want to maybe start a story about someone in the city during the mass chaos of the breakout from the Hasbio facility that spiraled the county into chaos. But I will return to the Harwell Homestead eventually I just feel I wanna add more details and human characters first (i first might actually have steven and Atlas get together first before I take a break as I love taking breaks on good ending points!) (I hope you all enjoyed reading it!)