sorry for the very late chapter. Star wars knights of the old republic got me again slowing my writing and proofreading of my story. need less to say this is a lot shorter than i wanted, but i hope those of you who enjoy this enjoy it. again sorry about my lateness and inability.
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The soft warm light of the sun filtered down from poorly made roof, and fell gently on my eye’s, waking me up. I looked around for Papa, unable to find him, I start to panic. I know he’s more than likely working outside, but that does not stop the fear from bubbling up into my head of my sole provider and friend left me and will never comeback. My tears and a powerful burst of emotion erupted from my body. My crying startling the critters that infest out occasionally dry abode.
My father rushes into the home startled, as if he fears that some monster has scared his most precious gift. Kneeling next to my cradle, he cradles my tiny body close to his sweaty hairy chest, letting me hear his quick rhythmic heartbeat. The action of care and affection turned my cry of loneliness into a cry of acceptance.
Even after our emotions finally settled, we stayed in that position for a time. My head resting against his chest listening to the rhythmic beat, knowing what calms me the most is made from my ultimate excitement. The moment ended when father took me outside, and placed me into the same spot as yesterday. This time sticks are stuck in the ground and lashed together with bits of old twine making a crude chair back. My back against the chair I talk with my father trying to learn how to speak the language better.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
As the day plods along, father stops to tell me he’s going to fetch a wet-nurse for my bi-daily feeding. I couldn’t tell him it’s not enough, but I don’t want to cause Papa more trouble. Unfortunately the same blood bag that fed me the first night walked onto the property. When she picked me up and pulled out the saggy unappealing bag of food, I partake only because if I don’t then father may have wasted our precious money. I sucked at her as hard and as rudely as I could possibly could, only waiting and planning for the day when I could get my revenge and drink the only good part of her.
When I was finished which was extremely quickly, for I didn’t want to stay attached to her. In total spite, strained and dirtied my blanket once more. I loudly cried and shirked in her face. The bag had revulsion flash across her face as she realized that she is holding a baby with more dirt and air wrapped around it than blanket to hold the discussing substance that the child is releasing onto her good dress. She almost threw me to father but abstained. She put on a bored expression, as if this was a normal thing for her, and wiped me down quickly with the unsoiled parts of my rag and washed it in the cauldron and hung it up to dry. Throughout all of this I realized that I need to get more rags so that I’m not always cold for a few hours after I carp myself.
With my petty revenge through and sitting down in my spot hopping that squirrels or ants don’t find my anatomy appealing to bring back to their nests. I watch father give the old bag some coins after which he returns to the field.
I wonder just how long it will take for me to enact my plan for getting us money.