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Bloody Orphan
Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It’s been about a year now.

I’m pretty sure the lack of food is stunting my growth. Horseface constantly mentions how little and weak I look compared to the other baby my mother has been nursing.

I started toddling around almost immediately after I was able to crawl. I pushed myself to do so as soon as I possibly could so that I could find another source of food other than my mother. Of course food is not easy to come by for anyone else in this brothel either, so I mostly have to settle for crumbs or scraps on the floor amidst the sawdust or in the garbage pail in the corner of most rooms in this hellhole. Almost choked myself trying to eat part of an apple core I found. Had panic attacks for days afterwards, having reawakened my death trauma from my past life. Not having teeth to properly chew fucking blows.

From what I overhear in the bar downstairs, this town is mostly dedicated to logging and wood working. Hence the customers mostly being big burly loggers with very little coin and even less manners. No large farms producing food in the area means most food is either meat from hunting, apples from a local orchard, or vegetables from small gardens. People apparently don’t have much extra, as I’ve heard a few folks starve to death every year, usually near the end of winter. Theft of food results in the loss of a hand, so people don't try it.

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I feel like one of those kids from a commercial about starving children in Africa that I always ignored when it came on on tv. Skinny twig arms and legs, ribs perpetually prominent, bulging belly. Not even enough excess energy to wave away the flies that flock to them like an already dead corpse.

I’m always tired. Always. I’m getting used to the constant gnawing hunger, but it’s impossible to completely ignore my body’s incessant background scream for more food than I’m getting. Really didn’t appreciate the land of McDonalds in my last life. I dream of donuts every night. I wonder if there are donuts in this world. I may very well have eaten my last glazed donut. Ever. Fucking depressing.

I’m so tired of being tired.