Prep For The Journey

320 10 2
                                    

POV Clover

"CLOVER!" My mom yelled at the top of her lungs. "How in the fuck did you manage to lose almost ALL the produce!"

I flinched at her loud volume; I knew I was in big trouble. My mom stood there in front of the doorway, blocking the entrance, waiting for my reply. I knew that if I didn't think of something quickly, it'd be the end. Luckily, I'm a smart kid.

"No Mom," I started to say, "I didn't lose the produce. Daven almost got fired the last time he gave me a freebie, so he didn't do it this time."

I could tell by my mom's face she wasn't buying it.

"So then why did you get the lawn chair and the shovel instead of the food? That was part of our dinner you know."

Ah yes. I knew she would say this.

I made sure not to smirk as I said: "Because the phone call I received today stated that some of the produce was getting 'recalled' due to them being poisoned by over-pesticide use. I..." I paused for a second, looking at my mom's facial expression to see if she was sold on it; she was. "I-I didn't want us to get poisoned or anything. I'm sorry Mom." I hung my head low.

"Mmm..." My mom mumbled something. She then sighed, allowing me entrance to the household. I made sure to take off my boots before I went inside so she wouldn't say anything. Good thing my face is always so stoic, otherwise it'd be hard to hide my smile. Internally, though, I was jumping for joy. Good lord, I was smart.

"Make sure you take a shower too. And make it quick. I'm going to fix up some dinner with what we have left. And your dad will be here soon..." She paused for a second, "Hopefully."
"Yeah," I said, retreating upstairs to my room. I grabbed some pajamas and put the sickle I had on my belt in my dresser drawer. I'd be needing it as a machete, or even a weapon, for my journey.

I threw all my clothes into the hamper and jumped into the shower, letting the cold liquid quickly turn into soothing warm water that ran down my skin. Depending on how long my journey would be, this might be the last time I'll be able to take a shower, much less enjoy one, for a bit. After all, if those kids went missing, there's obviously someone, or something, keeping them there.

The realization of what I'd have to face dawned upon me too quickly and I accidentally let soap into my eyes. Quickly washing my eyes with the burning and itching sensation still present, I began to wonder: "What if I get stuck there?"

The feeling of hesitance quickly left though, as the feeling of fire in my chest returned. I realized from then and there that no matter what happened, I'd have to go up there some time; it was my destiny; my calling.

As the hour went by, from showering and getting ready for my departure, I thought a lot. I thought about what I had to leave behind: My parents and my uncle Trey (not that he did much anyway), my school, the few friends I had, and the entire lifestyle I had begun to get used to over the years.

Of course, I was overthinking yet again. It's not like I'm not going to come back, but it's that I won't be coming back empty-handed. I could survive in the wilderness for an extended amount of time, as my father once threw me out to test the survival skills he taught me. It was harsh, yes, but I excelled, and it refined my skillset. After all, what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. And I won't be getting killed. Not without serving JUSTICE for those missing children.

However, even with the fire feeling in my chest, I couldn't stop thinking about the legends of the mountain, and that maybe it could be why they haven't been found yet.


2 hours later



"I'm home!" My dad bellowed. I ran down to the living room to see him shutting the door and hanging his cowboy hat on the post. I was honestly excited to see him since he usually gets back during the time I'm asleep.

"Dang. If I didn't know any better, I'd of thought you missed me?" He said to me.

"Naw. Just surprised you made it in time for dinner."

His face lit up.

"Oh, so I did huh? Well since you didn't miss me, I guess I'll be on my way." He turned around and began to open the door.

"No wait! I do!" I yelled.

He stopped, laughing. I gave him a puzzled look.

"Just kidding with ya cowboy!" He knelt to face me, ruffling my hair. "Now where's this food you talk about?"

"In the kitchen. Duh." I rolled my eyes.

"Of course. Of course." My dad got back up on his feet. "Honey! I'm home!" He called out.

"Yes. I know honey." A voice, my mom, protruded from the kitchen. My dad made his way into the kitchen, and I followed. Mom had already set the table.

"I made pork chops with biscuits and gravy, and a side of mashed pota- I mean carrots." She spoke.

My dad went over to her and gave her a kiss and a hug. "You did mighty fine honey."
We all sat at the dinner table, just eating and not talking much. Usually, I'd enjoy this; the peaceful serenity of quietness. However, I didn't know if I'd ever even see them again, and I wanted to at least leave on a good note.

I cleared my throat. "So, Dad, how was work today?"

My dad wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Umm, es pret-"

"Honey, don't talk with your mouth open," My Mom interrupted him.

My dad finished chewing his pork chop. "My bad," he said as I laughed.

"Anyways, like I was saying," He started, staring at my mother and putting emphasis on the 'saying' (She rolled her eyes), "Pretty much boring. We talked over the Jade Merryweather case again. Nothing new at all. It's a cold case file after all. I got off work early, so I went to see your old grandfather Whitley at the nursing home. He's still... well he's doing alright."

"Oh..." I said, not wanting to press much further. "Also didn't Jade go missing in Mount Ebott?"

My dad laughed. "Oh, that old mountain. Man do kids love to go up there and get lost. A shame really." He took a sip of the beer he had previously gotten out of the fridge, and continued, "If we had the budget, we'd put a patrol unit out there, but we don't. We don't even have the manpower."

I took a bite of my pork chop, savoring the flavor of it. After all, it could be a long time until I had a good meal like this.

"W-What... What about the legend? You know, of the monsters up there? You think that could be the reason those children are still up there?"

My dad choked on his beer. "Monsters? That's nonsense boy."

"But Dad, think about it. Why else would they still be up there?" I asked.
My dad held up his hand. "One," he put one finger up, "It's the wilderness. Kids can't survive long enough in there, let alone for years." He put up another finger. "Two: The mountain is big. If they got lost, chances are they aren't coming back out." Another sip of beer and finger number three. "Three: Injury. The mountain is dangerous, and if you get injured, you might not be able to make it back out."

As my dad kept counting reasons, I began to become more unsure of my plan.

"Annnnd numba seven: Morality. Yes... it is just a guess, but if a kid manages to survive all that, being alone for so long will take its toll. Who knows what measures they'll take, or what they'll do if they can't get back? Giving up is the most dangerous thing that could happen. Remember that son."

"Y-yessir."

My dad smiled. "Good."

The rest of dinner went by in silence.


3 hours later


My expression went dark as I knew what I'd have to do. I never wanted to do this, and I wasn't going to ever try it, but the reasons my dad gave me, especially the wild animals one, knocked some sense in my head to finally realize a scythe wasn't going to cut it.

I was fully dressed in my usual work attire, and my scythe was latched onto my belt. I looked at the other side of my belt, seeing the gun holster I'd attached to it. I couldn't believe it, but I was really going to steal my father's revolver and his ammo. I braced myself, looking at the missing person's photo of Jade, and every other missing child in my mind, as I stood outside my parents' bedroom door. Finally, that feeling of fire inside my heart, that feeling of yearning for JUSTICE, powered me just enough to turn the doorknob and sneak past their drawer to my father's gun safe.

Every light was out, and I was shadowed in a veil of pitch-black darkness. Luckily, my eyesight had been attuned to the darkness since I first could remember and had helped me numerous times in various dark situations. My father used to say I had night vision like Batman with his goggles.

I flinched at the word 'used'. I was already thinking of my father in the past tense. I held my head low in shame. Somehow my thoughts had already moved on.

I could clearly see the numerical password configuration, or whatever it's called, on the safe. I slowly reach into my pocket, pulling out a crinkled piece of paper with the number 8068scrawled on it. I sighed, remembering how I got it in the first place.



*Flashback*



"Hey, Dad! What are you doing?" I said, opening the door to his room.

"O-oh noth-ing s-son." My Dad said, obviously drunk. He even smelled like it.

"A-are you okay Dad," I asked, going over to the bed he was sitting on. I sat on it next time him, despite the stench of alcohol.

My Dad sighed deeply before responding. "N-no... Clover. I'm not fee-eeling very good a-at the mom-ent, hyuck."

I looked at him with worrying eyes. Scooting closer towards him, I leaned against him. He put his arms around me.
"L-look, son. T-there'll, well... could come a day t-that you'll hafta make a hard choice in life." He stood up on his feet, and I followed suit. He leaned against me for support. We walked over to his dresser.

"You know... ugh." He groaned in pain, clutching his chest. That's when I realized he was in pain, and not just drunk.

"Y-you okay Dad," I asked worriedly.

"S-son. Listen to me. You know w-what's in that safe right there?"

Bewildered, yet obedient nonetheless, I shook my head. "No sir."

"Well, inside there is a Desert Eagle 50 AE Revolver."

"What is that, Dad?"

"That right there is a gun."

"Oh," I said, blankly.

He knelt down to face me, wobbling a bit as he went down.

"One d-day, son, you may hafta make a decision that'll im-impact the rest of your life."

I was even more confused. My tiny little 5-year-old couldn't comprehend the meaning behind his words.

"W-What do you mean, Dad?"

He sighed deeply, as if in deep thought. "Clover, I'll say this as best I can."
"If one day, maybe in your adulthood, you need to make a life-or-death decision, and the only thing that would help even the odds is a weapon remember that the passcode to this safe is 8068, okay? Just remember this."

*Flashback ends*

"Violence isn't always the best choice. If you ever kill someone, you'll have to deal with your choice for the rest of your life." I whispered to myself. Sure, the only thing I might have to shoot will be animals, but if there's someone up there forcing those kids to stay up there, I will have to shoot them. It'll be the only way to serve JUSTICE.

With the fire in my heart and JUSTICE in my mind, I quickly punched in the code on the padlock, stole my father's gun and his ammo, closed it, and latched the gun and ammo to the holster on my belt. My father would never know how I got it; he'd forgotten the entire ordeal, and I decided it was best to keep it secret.

I was about to leave when I was suddenly attacked with a vicious feeling of sorrow. I looked back to my parents, both sleeping soundly, oblivious to the fact that they wouldn't see their son for probably a long time. With one last look at my parents who I'd lived with for my entire life, and a single tear that rolled down my face, I closed the door behind me and went down to the living room.

"Welp... It's time," I sighed, "Time to serve JUSTICE."

And I exited through the front door, making my way to the base of the mountain.

Undertale Yellow: A Journey For JusticeWhere stories live. Discover now