Bonnie Machete

Pick A Flower

Thirteen-year-old Vincent Sullivan hates his verbally abusive & strict father Roger Sullivan. They would argue all day and feud all night. There was never a real break. Vincent always got hurt in one way or another, whether it be physically, mentally or emotionally. He absolutely despised his father and only had school to escape him. There he had friends, two of them - Nancy and Jones.

Roger rarely showed care for him. It seemed the only love he had for his son was on his birthday or Christmas or some other special event.

One day, Vincent would always tell himself. One day I'll run away. Get away from him forever. If only Jones & Nancy could come with me...

He had wanted to escape his life for so long now, but he was scared. Roger is a scary man and struggled to stay sobre most of the time. He was also strong and always in a mood. Vincent was small & weak and was scared that if he pushed his father too far he would turn his tools on him.

"Vincent? Vincy!"

He had gazed out of focus again. "Huh? Oh, sorry."

There was a long pause of silence. Nancy and Jones knew about Vincent's life and his father, but they had different approaches to it. Nancy was hesitant to get involved with Roger, but Jones was protective and supportive of Vincent. They weren't anything special but they tried their best to help his situation.

Nancy was merely a month younger than Vincent, but could easily be mistaken for a small fifteen-year-old by her maturity and overall appearance. She had short dark hickory hair and icy blue eyes. Jones however was the opposite of her: Small & a bit of a jokester but was older than both of them, with caramel-cinnamon hair and brown eyes.

"I know your life situation is scary. But would your father really use one of his tools on you? Besides, you have Jones and I, Vincy. Oh, and Bonnie too!"

Bonnie was the Sullivan's Bernese mountain dog. Vincent absolutely adored her - she was a sweet girl that always made him happy no matter what would be happening at home. When Jones and Nancy weren't there, Bonnie was. Always.

They came to a stop Infront of a large oak tree with a tyre swing hanging from it. Vincent walked over and sat against the oak tree, knees curled up to his chest. Nancy & Jones sat either side of him, exchanging glances momentarily trying to think of what to say to comfort him.

Jones & Nancy then noticed something about Vincent - He was sniffling uncontrollably and his breathing became shakey. This isn't the first time he had broken down into tears on the spot, but it usually meant something bad happened.

Jones put his hand on Vincent's left shoulder and squeezed it. "It's alright. One day you will get your freedom and never have to worry about him controlling you again."

Vincent tilted his head looking up at Jones, his voice shaking and stuttering.

"I'm tired of waiting, Jones. One day he's really going to hurt me...One day...he'll use one of his tools from the toolhouse...and hurt me badly. He hates me!"

The toolhouse is the nickname for a large shed on the Sullivan's property where Roger stored his large collection of farm tools. He had many items in it - hoes, shovels, pickaxes, sickles, any large hand tool a farmer would need. But Vincent had been in there on multiple occasions and always feared one item in particular that hung from the wall in the far corner of the shed - a large 14" Latin machete. Roger claimed his grandfather had used it to trim the shrub bordering the house windows, on his crops and sometimes his animals, as he and Roger used to be butchers.

Jones slithered his hand onto Vincent's other shoulder and hugged him tightly. "You have nothing to fear, Vincent. As long as Nancy and I are here, you're safe. I promise." Vincent raised his head upright and lowered his knees, catching a cold breeze on his face.

Nancy paused for herself for a moment. She then raised her arms up to her left ear, Vincent and Jones watching in slight confusion. Nancy then pulled out something white from her hair. She held it up in her left hand.

There she held her beloved daisy flower hair pin. She looked at Vincent, heartwarming hope shimmering through her ice cold eyes.

"I want you to have this Vincent." She held the pin next to Vincent's hand.

"Your hair pin?" Though Vincent's hair was thick, strawberry blonde and curly, he and Jones were both confused. Why was Nancy giving him a hair pin?

"Daisies symbolise new beginnings. One day, Vincy, you'll escape your dad's evil grasp and lead yourself a new life. Jones and I know it!"

Vincent smiled uncontrollably and gently opened his hand, where Nancy then faithfully placed the hair pin in his palm.

"Whenever you're scared, hold it. It's like a token of good luck for me, but I think you should have it."

Vincent by this point had relaxed a bit, taking deep and calming breaths. He slid the hair pin into his left front breast pocket where it was held close to his heart. The 3 of them cuddled together, making Vincent really feel safe. Though he was still crying, they were out of happiness - reassured once again that be would be remembered.

"We won't let anything happen to you."