August Bennett was born into this world on February 23rd, the skies were gloomy and the rain pattered down onto the window sills, whisking away and blending into the cracks. Faded shadows from the moon filled into the room, and August Bennett's mother can recall almost very singular detail of that life-changing night.

The time ticked 1:08am when the mother delivered, remembering so fondly of holding him in her arms. At that moment, she had felt the warmth radiating off of her child, and had witnessed the feeling of summer and calm breezes, representing his soothing presence. His warm brown eyes that mirrored the inside of a blooming sunflower on a summer day, and his head full of hair that reminisced the outer edges of the said sunflower. Therefore, she had named him August, and it had fit snug.

August had grown into a curious and healthy child, and the soothing atmosphere never left him from the day his mother had held him. He helped his mother through tough times ranging from his toddler ages, though his pure eyes had never witnessed said struggles of his warmhearted mother, and he knew no knowledge of her suffering, he had still managed to help her get through those dark days of serious poverty, and he had never seemed distressed from the lack of toys or missed meals.

His mother would say with strong words, that he was her light source out of the dark during those times. Though things got increasingly better, they had never managed to escape the inevitable truth, and had till this very day have such money troubles.

August had never fitted in with the children in his school, and had constant visits with the guidance counselor. Nonetheless, no matter the bruises or scratches that August dealt with, his teacher's had expressed that he had great sympathy and fearlessness, always believing in what was right and never cowering when it came to his bullies, shameless and determined. They had felt that this was outstanding behavior for a child so young, and therefore he was loved by his teachers.

Even though August does stand up towards his bullies, the constant bullying over his elementary years caused his self confidence to deteriorate. He keeps this to himself as he does not want his mother to worry about him, which is where his selflessness comes in. Sadly, these changes in his self-esteem will effect him in the future drastically.

August's mother is deemed everything to him. She has cared for him and nurtured him, and when she is in distress or sad, August could not help but feel intense hatred in whatever it is that has upset her.

He has witnessed more than someone his age should, the cruelty of this world, greed and selfishness, loss and power-hungry landlords and it always ends up mirrored towards his mother. He sometimes can not help but feel defenseless, not worthy of protecting her.

August is only human, and more, a child. He knows the big scary man that visits every Sunday, banging on the door ruthlessly and screaming out his mother's name. It always ends the same, the transaction, scrambling for money around the house, hoping she will make it in time before he loses his patience and takes it all.

If the landlord would have moved one more inch, lost his patience. August would have defended her, he would have stood tall and bold, looked him in the eyes with ferociousness and determination. He has that type of bravery, that type of courage. What had came upon them instead, was just the bare minimum, the lucky route of things.

He could faintly hear his mother's voice, the wavering of confusion and fright. The empty envelope in her hand, flimsy and dirty wavered, her eyes tense and stunned. She must have been still dazed, shook up from the sudden intruder.

Because otherwise, she was not hallucinating the glass plate that whisked past her head, and the many more that were circling around the kitchen, high in the air. Her voice was smooth like honey and soft like butter when she spoke to him. Once his mother's soothing voice cut through his thoughts, the plates in mid-air came crashing down onto the floor. Glass shards scattered along the floor, some edges landing near his barefooted feet.

August's stunned gaze focused on the shards near him, his eyes bug wide. His head creeped back up, his voice squeaky and high.


There was nothing more than August hated then seeing his mother distance herself from him. She wasn't being impolite, but you could tell she was frightened, no matter how she tried to hide it.

They had never spoke of the occurrence again, and whenever August would have unexplainable things happen, he would just keep it hidden from her.
Maybe, they would just keep this under the wraps. Pretend like it never happened.

Fate had other plans. There seated an owl on their mailbox, fancy envelope secured in his beak on August's 11th birthday.