Truthful Blabbermouth - 5
The child woke up on the wooden floor. There was no one around. This time it happened in the kitchen. So they just ignored what was happening and left without helping again? The child just sighed and got up. It saw a plate of baked potatoes on the table. It wobbled to the table and took one. It ate it in two big bites. It knew that it wouldn’t feel the best rest of the day but it didn’t think much about it. The child could estimate that about half an hour had passed since the bout started. It continued thinking about the hallucinations.
Occasionally, it would wake up under the blue wisteria tree, gently enveloped by its vines. The first time this happened was when it was around 6 years old. It just remembers that it grew dark before its eyes, and then when it woke up it was under the tree. The child was frightened at the time, but it met a couple of weird children that brought it some juice and consoled it, saying that nothing there is scary and that everything will be alright. The child was also welcome to stay for some time until it was ready to go home.
When it came back for the first time from this place, it found out that it fell unconscious and was heavily convulsing and screaming for a short time. Then it calmed down and was unresponsive for a quarter of an hour. It understood that the time flowed differently in its mind and in the real world. It also understood that it was better to be in that place rather than experiencing that which the village doctor explained to the nun who cared for the children in the county.
After the first incident, it could feel that the way other children and grown-ups looked at it changed. It seemed like they were terrified, concerned, pitying, disgusted with what happened that time. No one could help the child, and the child couldn’t defend against bullies and the cruel priest. That’s why it avoided them all. It always went out of the church, where it started living after the first time. The parents just left the village, saying that they don’t need nor want a defect.
The child was called a lot of names. Creep, maddog, ghost (this was because a couple of locks of hair went white from the stress of convulsions), monster, trash, retard, cripple, etc. It numbed already to all that. It didn’t matter what they called the child, as long as it didn’t sound good, it knew who they were talking about.
From the first time on, it could feel the incoming convulsions, so it would just lay down anywhere that wasn’t near a body of water or a pit and wait for the unconsciousness to overwhelm its mind before the hallucinations came in. This would all be fine if it were like that every time.
It went out of the kitchen through the back door. It was at least able to feed the chickens and clean up after pigs. Better than listening to the nun’s prayers or scolding. The weather was sweltering even though it was still morning. Well, they were in the middle of summer, after all. Slowly, in the pace it could manage, the child dutifully fulfilled chores it was required to.
That night, the child was held up by the nun for a whole hour before going to sleep. The nun said that it would go to the centre of the village tomorrow to pick up some herbs from the apothecary’s shop. The trip itself wasn’t that hard, but it was the middle of the summer and it would have to carry a basketful of herbs back. It knew it wasn’t going to be easy because the nun prohibited it from taking a mule to the village.
Next morning was rough. The child felt its muscles were soft. It didn’t recover properly because it couldn’t sleep enough. It just let out a sigh and started preparing for the trip. It stole a few bites of mashed peas and rye bread before getting caught. The nun didn’t scold it as usual, but just gave it the basket and sent it off. It felt wrong.
The transaction at the apothecary was uneventful. The child picked up the herbs, looked around a little, and started going back. Halfway, it felt numbness spread through its left arm. It just breathed in and out a few times but it didn’t help. Putting basket to the side, the child lied below a linden tree, waiting for unconsciousness to come over it.
But this time, the child didn’t hop over as it intended. It stayed conscious. The body heavily convulsed, foam heavily lathered its body, vomit overwhelmed its trachea and it could only whine and screech out of fear and insecurity it felt. There was no one to help, no one to save it. The blood flow was rapid, heart beat heavily and hurriedly. It could feel and hear everything. Its ears ringed with the sensations of its body. When it ended, the child turned the head to the side to continue vomiting. Trying to breathe was a torture. After stopping, it tried to move, but couldn’t. Everything was just moments ago taut as a bow, but now it was lifeless. So it just waited until the body regained some energy. It got up, staggering, legs quivering. Tears were unstoppable. For the first time the child questioned the sky above it.
‘This is what was happening all these years? What did I do to deserve this? This suffering must not be afflicted unto anyone except the worst of the worst. Why was it me? I’m called a cripple, a monster, a puppet, a MADDOG! Explain yourself, you grey sky, the one who granted me this!’
It could only howl through tears, missing the other side. Never again, never again does it want to feel like this.
A fire burned in its veins. It didn’t want to feel that again. It looked at itself. Foam and vomit were on the shirt it wore. And the ground it was on…the ground was wet. There were traces of blood. It immediately felt the pain in the mouth. The teeth clenched so hard that they bit the tongue and cut it a little. Another part was completely wet, colourless. The child had a bad feeling. It looked down at the bottoms it wore. Since they were black, it was barely noticeable, but they were wet. It wet itself like a baby.
Cheeks flushed from humiliation made the child run to the nearest stream and wash. It didn’t stop until it couldn’t feel its body from the cold water. Then the child washed the dirty clothes. It put them back on and marched to the village without the basket it was supposed to bring to the church. When it entered the back door of the church, what awaited was a scream of an angry nun asking where the basket was.
The child ignored the nun that shouted without a stop. It stood before her, just waiting. This made the nun furious, because there was no pitiful and scared expression the child usually showed. She looked closely and noticed the damp clothes.
“Did you fall into the lake?! Is that why you came back without the basket? You should’ve been careful, haven’t I said that many times! There isn’t a child as useless as you in the whole county.” The nun continued abusing the child relentlessly. “I can’t believe that I have to take care of a marionette like you. You can’t even do some basic chores like bringing wood or making fire because of your seipsy! It’s been seven years since the church took a leech like you in, and you haven’t proven useful at all. Why are you looking at me like that? Don’t worry, you beast, you’ll soon be very useful to the priest. After all, that priest’s last boy broke just a couple days ago. You’ll do just fine as the replacement!” A smile that turned the child’s heart to stone appeared on the nun’s wrinkled face.
It was aware what it meant to be the priest’s toy. You would serve him in any way he wished you to. When he got bored of you, he would slowly torture you until you fell apart, physically; and mentally if you haven’t before that point. That was the worst fate it could have.
No, that wouldn’t happen. The fire that was just quenched came again. The child pushed the nun heavily, making her fall. She wailed in pain, seemingly having sprained her ankle. The child laughed. That was a sound it was capable of making. Nun stilled. Since she didn’t hear this child ever laugh, this sound was unfamiliar.
Since the child itself almost never laughed, and barely smiled, the expression it had while smiling looked wrong. The smile was crooked and too wide for the face, it looked as if the child would open its mouth at any moment and take a bite out of the nun. Nun’s blood ran cold. Her heart was pumping, she didn’t dare move. The child just continued smiling and cackling while it went around the kitchen, taking some hard bread and raw vegetables along with dried meat. The nun was confused, her brain unable to process what was happening. In the end, she came back to herself and yelled: “Thief! The puppet is a thief! Help me!”
Nevertheless, the child was too quick. It went to the room where it slept and pulled out the clothes it had. Clothes and food were stuffed into a potato sack. Then it came down and barged into the priest’s office, taking some money. After doing all that, it swiftly turned around and exited the church through the main door. When everyone gathered to stop the child, nobody could find it. The puppet went away. The puppet ran away. Some people broke out in cold sweat while others gloated. Those who were scared knew what was actually happening. The child left them in the worst situation possible. The priest had no toy to play with…