I’ve never understood the power of words. I know how and where to utilise such a thing but the connection between wind and actions is just missing from my mind. People act and react to lies the same as truth and although most pretend that they are good liars they are only good at lying to themselves. How do I know this? I am a liar.
I have lied so much that I’ve fooled myself in believing those same lies and now the world I’m surrounded myself with is nothing but fiction. Truth is the illusion of freedom and although I know that I still crave to find the truth of my situation I... I’ve probably confused you at this point not that I care much. It’s much easier to lie when that is the case anyway. So, don’t be surprised if when listening to my past that some things seem out of place. After-all as I said. I am a liar… I am a terrible liar.
It started as it always does not dark or light but something normal, average. It’s as if the world was bland and waiting for something that was lacking and taking its time to get there. I was young but I remember as clear as day a few smiles of parents I assume, and even if you call it one of my last happy memories all I think of those smiles akin to a nightmare because whenever they smiled I never shared their joy.
It was my first day of school, not nice and joyful as it should have been but one full of numbness as the ice and water touched my skin to reduce the swelling enough to hide with makeup. I’m not even a girl and they still insisted that I wear it. Of course, I know what you’re thinking but remember I said young as in lacking experience and that was my norm. This was only way I lived and all that I knew.
It was semi-accepted at the time and I think it is humorous in that kind of so dark it’s almost funny sort of way, that while it was accepted that hitting your kids was allowed (even teachers could partake in the act with permission) and that if you hit anyone else other than children then you would be arrested for abuse.
Training for the world outside and building character through suffering is what they told me. Well-deserved punishment was the answer at times when I asked why do they hit me; not that I remember what they hit me for as I was more focused on the pain in my neck and my ears ringing after each session. Then I discovered something while at school one day.
A kid had taken the apple from the teacher’s desk while he thought nobody was looking. We had to wait for five minutes in our chairs as the teacher made the rounds past each desk tapping the cane on each table and asking who took it. No one said a thing, not even me. The bell rang and we allowed to leave because some of us had to catch the bus.
He asked each of us as we went out the door who stole it and the reply was the same from everyone “I don’t know sir”. The thief mimicked the rest perfectly and was away free from his well-deserved punishment. I was the last one out and was asked the same question “I don’t know sir”. I must have looked shady or rushed out the door too quickly because I heard the ever-familiar crack and the pain that swiftly followed. It was a painful lesson but one I took to heart. If you’re going to lie, lie well.
The discovery changed my life immediately. I was now only from time to time suffering from the lashing of both parents and teachers alike. My health seemed to better and I was less sickly than before. It’s probably because the ice baths became less frequent as I improve my capabilities to deceive.
As for the kid who stole the apple… I placed another one in his desk and showed the teacher during class. It felt good that I had that sort of power. He caused me pain with lies and now I was returning the favour. Guilt? I was smiling the entire time.
The other kids were on to me though and I never made friends from that day onward. Don’t get me wrong though. I was never isolated. They couldn’t afford to isolate me. I made sure of it by making an example of them one by one and by the end of term I was the leader of the pack.
Authority previously missing from my life was now given freely from them but it was not enough. I had authority over those that had none and it was a hollow victory; so, I decided to change the situation. I went through my parents draws searching for letters, notes, anything that was written by them really.
I traced the shapes of the cursive letters and found my mother’s handwriting more suited to me. It took a long time before I could replicate it to my satisfaction. It wasn’t perfect but it was good enough for what I needed it for. I wrote the last note that my mother would ever compose with my own hands.
I made it seem rushed and used a damp rag over the letters that didn’t seem quite right to give the impression that she was crying while writing this. I took the knife out of the draw and waited for the sound of snoring from the bed room. Father was first. His eyes opened but I had stuffed his mouth so that he wouldn’t scream.
It still disturbed mum a little but not enough to wake her. I don’t think I need to say more. I was alone in the room now and I’m not sure why but I started remembering the time before school started. I had almost forgotten the chains that caused my wrist to become red when I struggled.
I remembered the feeling of not knowing when the next meal would arrive and the delight I would get from seeing the sunlight after weeks of that cramped mouldy basement. I picked up the phone and called the number that I was told never to call.
“911 what’s your emergency?”
“Hello?”
“Are your parents’ home?”
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“Yes.”
“Can I talk to them?”
“No”
“why not?”
“They’re not breathing”
“Can I get your house number and street name?”
“I…I don’t know…”
“That’s fine, we’ll be there soon. How about you go to the lounge and I’ll keep you company on the phone”
“Okay”
“what’s your name?”
“I don’t know”
“Do you go to school?”
“yes”
“What does the teacher call you?”
“Boy, is Boy my name?”
“…Do you know what school you go to?”
“Mum called it umm, Christian school”
“Do you have any friends?”
“They don’t like to talk to me there”
….
*KNOCK KNOCK*
“It’s alright, go answer the door. They’ll help you”
I walked over to the door and started to unlock it. It took a while as there were seven locks but I managed to get the last one by standing on a chair. The officer looked at me a little startled
“Hey kid, can you put the knife down?” I dropped it on the ground.
“careful now. My names Tyler and the lady here is Dianne Where did you get the knife from?”
“Mum had it”
“where is she now?”
“In the bedroom”
“Okay. Can you stay here with Dianne? She’s a nice person who’ll look after you for a little while”
“Okay”
He walks inside and starts to walk down the hallway. Dianne was next to me and looked a bit nervous though she seemed nicer than the adults I’ve seen.
“Do you have any games you like to play?”
“Umm. Hide and seek”
“what about an inside game?”
“What’s an inside game?”
“They are things you do inside for fun like snap, monopoly and one you play by yourself called solitude”
“I don’t know about the first too but mum and dad make me play solitude all the time… I don’t like it. It’s dark and lonely and not fun at all” She hugged me then.
I don’t know why but she did and it was strange. A weird unreasonable thing to do. It didn’t hurt at all. It made no sense to me. “what are you doing?” I asked her as I felt my eyes swell a bit and start stinging. “You didn’t hit me so why are my eyes stinging?” She started trembling as she hugged me tighter. Tyler walked in then and waited by the hallway entrance for a bit before talking.
“Dianne I just finished talking to the director and we’ll be leaving as soon as the investigators arrive. You can ride in the back with him… I found the mothers letter, you should probably read it as you’re likely to be looking after him for a while”
She let me go from the hug but I didn’t, so she rubbed my back with one hand while she read the note I had written. I let go when she stopped rubbing my back and started to shake again. She pushed the note back to Tyler and rushed down the hallway and turned right towards the basement entrance.
“Hang on!” Tyler shouted when he recovered from the recoil of the push she gave him but she was already there and he was reluctant to leave me I suppose.
….
She didn’t come back for a while and I was getting uncomfortable because Tyler was giving me a strange look. I didn’t like it so I looked everywhere but him. “Hey kiddo” he finally said while messing up my hair.
“you said you didn’t have a name, right? How about we think of one while we wait then. Does that sound good?”
“Wasn’t Boy my name?”
“How about Levi?”
“Boy’s not a name? uh okay. Then is Levi my name?”
“If you want it”
“Levi…”
Dianne walked in just then and picked me up. “Let’s go Levi. We must stop by the police station first but then I’ll take you to a nice place… Much better than this one okay?”
“O-okay”
“Let’s go Tyler”
“The others aren’t here yet Dianne.”
“I said let’s go” Her voice sounded like mum’s when she was angry and I felt a shiver course through me.
“Sorry Levi… It’s alright now.”
I heard Tyler mumbling into the radio and for the first time I left the house without my parents’ permission. The plan succeeded and I was free for the first time and I found a new authority to desire.
I would become a policeman… Then I could control adults as well as the kids in school. I was getting tired but just before sleeping I managed to mumble thanks to that kid who told me the number 911 for the first time. When I first told mum, I was beaten to the point it hurt to breathe so I got revenge on him… I feel a little bit bad about that now.
My name is Dianne and I’m the police departments child psychologist and relocation officer. My partner Tyler who was assigned to me after graduation from the academy was also a graduate in my class. Even though I say that we didn’t get a chance to communicate outside of class but we are both willing to make this sudden arrangement work.
While on route to the Vintle city we were passing through the countryside when we received news via the radio of a suspected child abuse case in a nearby town. When we arrived, Tyler knocked on the door, he was about to knock again when we heard the mechanical clicks on multiple locks being undone.
It went silent for a bit but then we heard a chair scrapping across the floor and one more final click. In the doorway, still on a chair was a kid about 5 years old still wearing his school uniform only he had blood on his sleeves and was holding a knife with similar red stains on the blade and handle.
He dropped it when Tyler asked him to so we approached him cautiously. We asked him where he got the knife and his voice came out emotionlessly as he simply said his mother. He was mostly unresponsive and only answered when asked a question with a voice barely above a whisper.
I asked if he wanted to play a game and I almost wished I hadn’t when I heard about what he thought I meant and I was hugging him before I knew what happened.
“You didn’t hit me so why are my eyes stinging.” I took a quick look at his face and noticed that he was crying… This was the first time he had cried?
Tyler walked in then carrying a note in his hands and I let go of the kid but he seemed reluctant to let go so I rubbed his back while I read.
I can’t do this anymore. l’m no mother and he is certainly no father. We beat him for little reason other than to relieve stress and lock him in the basement, only remembering him a couple days later. We almost lost him a few times and we’d have been caught if we didn’t throw him in an ice bath before school to reduce the bruises. It’s lucky that we’ve managed to bribe his teacher into not reporting us after we were careless and missed the bruise on his neck. The boy doesn’t react to us like he used to anymore and doesn’t try to run anymore but I almost had a heart attack when he told us a kid from school said 911 was called to bring good guys to help. We had to beat into him to not call it no matter what and he missed the next day of school because the bruising didn’t go down at all. I’ll just end this now and then when we’re gone the kid can starve and follow us to hell.
I let go of the kid and pushed the note into Tyler’s hand as I rushed towards where he had come from. I think he said something but I didn’t hear it. I saw the parents… bastards room and they were both in bed one with a knife wound in the heart with socks in his mouth and the other with a slash across the throat.
She didn’t kill him that was obvious. Why muffle his mouth if no one else that could stop her was here? I noticed in the corner there was a trap door with a ladder going down. The light was on probably because Tyler had searched it but I had to see where they had kept him myself.
Once I was down there I was in shock. Chains, camera’s, tapes, whips, and other things I could only guess at the use of. I knew who killed those two and I was glad he did it and disappointed he had to. Where was I? When these monsters did, this where was I?
I walk over to the camera’s and notice that on the table beside them there were 15 tapes… I took them all and placed them in the black bag beside the cameras and left. I walked back to see Tyler talking to the kid. “How about Levi?”
It’s a nice name and he seems to be a bit confused at first but accepts it anyway. “Let’s go Levi. We must stop by the police station first but then I’ll take you to a nice place… Much better than this one okay?”
“O-okay”
“Let’s go Tyler”
“The others aren’t here yet Dianne.”
“I said let’s go” I felt Levi shiver when I raised my voice so I apologised to him quickly while walking to the car. I sat in the back seat with him and we drove off to the Vintle city station. We were on the highway when he started to fall asleep.
“Thank you…right…911…good guys” I let him lean on me as it was an hour’s time to the station and he needed sleep now.