Hurmies and his King Persis

By T. F. Miller

Coming of age story about a kid whose parents became paranoid of the American society and the direction it was going.  Their paranoia created a reality for them in their future as they moved to Moscow, Kansas.  Technology seized to operate and society collapsed.  Hurmies, through a number a trials and tribulations, stumbles upon a secret and was forced to act before things get worse.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: T. F. Miller
• Release date: Nov 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393223405

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

My life sucks, that is until the world I knew ended, then it became a living nightmare.  At school I was a loser, I always got teased and picked on.  The other kids would call me mole-rat, push me to the ground and start kicking me while making fun of my name.  My parents named me Hurmies after the Greek god Hermes.  They were obsessed with Greek mythology.  They always told me that the name fit me. 

On top of giving me a strange name, my parents have become increasingly paranoid of the world and their perceived downward spiral of society, so they packed things up, moved from Portland, Oregon and bought a 100-acre farm on the outskirts of a small town called Moscow in Kansas to get away from the everyday toxins typical of an American city.

Except there was one problem; the house on the farm wasn’t your typical American house, complete with a two-car garage, four bedrooms and two baths, with a kitchen and living room that is open and inviting of the natural life and beauty around us.  Nope, the house was an underground de-commissioned American nuclear missile silo, which they converted into a home to live in.  And shortly after they moved in and settled down, I was born, Hurmies Anthony Jenkins. 

I WAS HOME SCHOOLED until the age of sixteen when my parents thought it was a good time to put me in a public school, after I got my driver’s license.  The idea was to let me drive to school, but my parents never got me my own car, so I still had to take the bus to school every day. 

Their paranoia was so severe that they would stockpile supplies; everything from food and water to toilet paper and medication.  They even kept what a lot of other people would consider trash or garbage.  They kept it because they thought it could be used as salvage, in case something broke they could fix it themselves.

I got the nickname Mole-rat once the other kids at school found out that I live underground in a giant concrete missile silo.  When I was younger, I would ask my parents why we live underground and their reply was always, so we can protect our special Hurmies from the inevitable end of the world. 

As a 16-year-old boy who just got his driver’s license, I am supposed to be entering the youth of my social life.  But, because my parents raised me in an underground missile silo, gave me a strange name and withdrew me from social interventions when I was a kid, I find it extremely difficult for me to make friends.  I started to become that socially awkward kid in high school, the kid no one ever really wanted to be around.  Now I am never invited to a party as a friend and am always treated as an outsider in between classes.  If I am invited to a party, it is only to be made fun of and be teased all night. 

With all the verbal assault and the killing of my confidence, I find myself withdrawing from social situations by staying in my bedroom as often as I can just to write.  The only time I leave my bedroom now is to eat and go to my god-forsaken hell of a school. 

One day at school, during a boring and pointless computer class, I was blowing off the lesson and ignoring the teacher and started writing in my notebook, expressing my frustration and anger for the way I was raised by my parents.

"Hurmies we love you;

The end is near;

Every time I hear it my face turns blue;

All I want is a beer;

Why did you name me Hurmies;

The other kids act like I have Herpes".

Before I can write anymore, the class bully Shannon grabs my notebook and chucks it across the room shouting, hey Mole-rat, go get your book, class is over, in a very distinct voice filled with bully sentiment. 

Shannon is one of the many people who pick on me, but he is by far the rudest and the most consistent about it.  I think it may be because he was given a girl’s name for a boy and is outwardly expressing his resentment for it.  Or maybe not, maybe that is just the way he would’ve been with any other name. 

With thick jet-black hair gelled all the way back, piercing green eyes, and olive toned skin, he would seem to be eye candy for the girls.  But he has never gone on a date with any of the girls at school, as far as I'm aware.  Why he picks on me the most though, I don’t know, maybe because I’m an easy target. 

As I’m picking up my notebook, I feel a hand grab my hair on the back of my head and position my face in the right place for a swift and extremely painful blow to my face by a knee.  This mystery person’s knee instantly shattered my nose causing blood to spray all over the place.  All I can hear is laughter in the background while I’m grabbing my nose.  After I’m able to focus my eyes on the source of laughter I realize that the crush of my dreams had crushed my nose. 

Her name, Areial, is as sexy as god allows.  The way her light blue eyes perfectly accent her rustic auburn hair is unlike anything I have ever seen before.  Her slender, curvy body is the envy of all the girls at school; they consistently vote her amongst the hottest.  All the guys wish to date her and most girls are jealous of her.  She’s the most popular girl and can have any guy she wants but I never see her date anyone as well.  The only other students I see her talk to is Shannon, and me, when she’s picking on me.  No one knows why she isn’t more social with the other kids outside of school.

AFTER SCHOOL, I WAS walking to catch the bus home when Shannon cut me off and threatened to beat me up if I didn’t give him the last seat on the bus.  Shannon feels as if he must always show his superiority towards me to get his