(Part 1).
Mother told me that when she was young, she used to wrestle with the other kids in the streets, and as she slammed me against the kitchen counter—I realized that she was pretty good at it too. The impact instantly took the breath away from me, but I still clutched onto the two little coins in my hand.
I couldn’t let her take them. There was a sail on bread. One loaf for the cost of the two coins in my hand that I found lost in between the old torn living room couch cushions. I couldn’t help but salivate.
I never realized Mother would fight this hard to prevent her own child from eating, but I was wrong. I tried moving away from her, but she just grabbed my wrist and threw me onto our dirty kitchen floor, and as I landed face down— I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my side.
No one would hire a kid in these parts. Without these coins, I couldn’t eat. I closed my eyes as Mother pried my fingers until they turned red. She dug her fingernails into my flesh until my fingers started to loosen their grip, and finally, she ripped the small coins away from me.
“This is my money, Adrian, my money,” Mother hissed, towering over me as I remained on all fours on the ground. Maybe she doesn’t care because she doesn’t know what it feels like to starve for days.
I looked at the closed door of Father’s room, trying to remember what his bed looked like back when he used to keep his door open. They hadn’t slept in the same room in a long time.
I don’t need love. I just need a little help. Father was there, somewhere behind the door. Maybe his ear was pressed against it? Was he listening to what was happening? I looked away. What was I hoping for? That if I willed for it enough, my father would magically come out and help me? No.
I was just a kid, but I already knew that there were no miracles, no hope, and definitely no magic in this world. He would never do that. Not after all the fights with Mother. He wouldn’t dare give me something she denied.
“You’re my child and you obey me,” she said. “You don’t take from me. You do as I say.”
All I needed was a little food, and I failed. Was food too much to ask? I remained on the floor, curled up into a tight ball as mother went back into her room. I couldn’t fend for myself and there was no one else to fend for me. I couldn’t feed myself even though I wanted to live.
I wanted to live… Yes, I wanted to live. Even in this world—a world without love, without mercy, without any help for me, I wanted to live.
Gripping the edge of the nearby cupboard, I tried to pull myself up into a standing position, but my chest and side felt like a knife had sliced them open, and I realized one of my ribs might have been broken. I dragged myself outside and forced myself to begin crawling toward the bread shop. I didn’t have money, and I didn’t have a plan. But I was hungry, and I didn’t know what else to do.
It was even painful to breathe, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to get away from mother and her abuse, away from my so-called loving home.
I couldn’t remember how long I had been crawling before I found my fingertips bleeding, leaving a red mark on the ground each time my hands pulled me forward. The pain was good. It helped me forget my hunger, even if it was just temporary. The pain meant that I was still alive. And so, I used that to keep myself going, counting each mark I made.
One, two, three, four, and all the way up to ten, before starting over again.
It might have been a dozen rounds to ten before I suddenly stopped and asked myself, “why am I doing this?” My vision was blurring, and I could barely even see twenty feet in front of me. Was the blood loss getting to me? A part of me wanted to let go, to just lay on the ground and give up on everything, and to stop hurting myself. But I knew that if I gave up here, I would die, but if I kept on fighting, I’d grow stronger.
I pushed myself to keep going despite the throbbing pain I felt throughout my whole body. Just a little more, and I’d be there. I could just barely make out the bread shop ahead and the people walking around. I was so close. I quickened my pace, causing even more blood to come out.
One, two–ow–three, four–augh five, six. My vision started to give out, and black spots started to cover the corners of my eyes.
I couldn’t keep going any longer. The sun beat down, and everything blurred and fell away, fating into blackness.
submitted by /u/HL_Frost
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