Blood, blood everywhere. A presence swiftly slipped away while I was staring at the pool I was in. I was perplexed at how so much delectable wine could seep from such a small cut. I quickly licked the unsullied liquid dripping down my arm, seeming like a child trying to lick spilled homey that slowly crawled down their arms.
In a shorter time than I would like, my arms were detestably clean but I was still parched. Parched enough to lap the most beautiful spot in the world that I happened to be sitting in.
My spot of heaven started to get darker and darker. My wonderful drink is losing its taste. I feel cold. My thoughts are slowing down. I want to sleep. I try to stand to leave the back ally that I ducked into. The reason for which escapes me. I falter and fall to my knees so I start crawling, my pace is slow, slower than I would like. The street light flickers and seems to be getting darker and darker. Again I falter and fall only to find myself in the same spot of heaven. Knowing that I have not made any progress to get out of the pool.
My body does not react to what I tell it to do, so I do what my body wants. Which is to sleep. So I closed my eyes.
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I feel uncomfortable, incredibly so. My sight is black, my body bent, my world rocking. I hear a familiar rhythmic beat. It’s peaceful. The time I spent in this place was enormously long, and incomparably fast. When I decided to leave the place it took hours, it was painful, and confusing. I went from the place and into the awaiting hands of some person that was sitting there.
The person was shouting in a different language. The small room seemed to be in mayhem. That was until some person slapped me. Which was painful enough to make me bawl. When I did so it caused the person holding me to smile from ear to ear and to wrap me in a rough blanket. I, wrapped in my only possession in the world, was given to the women whom just birthed me. I thought that she had to have been the blandest woman in the world. Her face was slightly heart shaped and had auburn hair with gray green eyes. Her skin was pale and lips a slight pink, no blemish was on her face.
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When she held me I heard the all too familiar beat in her chest, which calmed and quieted me. She gazed at me with so much adoration and love I was startled. Her eyes sparkling as the starry sky. She brought me closer to her lips so she could whisper a word into my ears,” Astaroth.”
With her duty done, she closed her eyes exhausted from her labor. I was taken from my mother and brought outside from the small dimly lit room to be given to a man with tears streaming down his face. The light blue eyes letting down a steady stream tears flowing over his light scruff that followed his strong chin and jawline, his lightly tanned skin with ruffled brown hair took on a relived look as I squirmed in his arms. Taken from my mother, was I was whisked away to a different hovel.
The walls of the shack were made out of ill-fitting wood with clay filling in the cracks, the roof a collaboration of hay and thrush. The door a flimsy concoction of sticks and rope. The area around the house was a field that was dilapidated. Which was putting it in the best of light. In the house was a stone fire place an hearth with a cauldron hanging from a hook above the pile of ash that use to be a fire. My supposed father took the blanket from around me, and in what he believed to be gently, wiped my mother’s fluids away from me.
When the mess was washed from my body he placed me in what seemed a manger only padded with hay and green weeds. On which I swiftly fell asleep, wondering about that my new life will entail.