Lullaby

A Story by Kheya

The ache of child neglect

Creak.
The door opens.
Everything’s okay. Everything’s real.
Tiptoeing through the kitchen, making his way to the cupboard, he opens it. He makes his way to his own room, pausing once to look at the faded, yellowing photograph on the mantelpiece.
It was taken on a day at the beach, the balmy winds fanning his cheeks, the seagulls were screeching, the air smelled of sea salt and it echoed with the family’s laughter- things were different then. In the picture, his parents cuddled around him and his baby sister. Faces full of mirth, looking back at him, mocking, and comforting him at the same time.
He went to his room; eyes dry- not even a hint of the comforting wetness which would have meant emotion- being HUMAN.
He fingered the blade in his pocket, scared of his own self. He settles on the bed and examines the razor, feeling around the blade. ‘sharp---' like the feeling of neglect, familiar.
He rolled his sleeve down, and turned his wrist up so that the moonlight filtering in caught it. Slender and porcelain-like in the dappled moonlight. Blood could contrast it. He felt his own wrist and his hands, looking for the vein with perfect peace of mind. Taking resolve, he holds the blade against his beautiful wrists---
SWISH.
Metal against skin.
The blood flows freely, with the ugly grimace of being free after 15 long years. Pain-white hot and searing hit him on the back of his head- it almost made him lose his mind- but again, pain was HUMAN. With remaining strength, he picked up the torch beside him and flung it at the mirror, which crashed. He heard stirrings in his parents’ bedroom and an uncharacteristic, soft smile graced his bloodless lips.
His parents would come and see him like that- defenseless and weak and maybe…they would hold him to their chests with love and whisper sweet coaxing words. Love, attention, want- after four long years! He was scared of himself as he thought those words, but oh!
Sweet, sweet love.
As he sensed the door opening beside him and his mother entering, he turned his head to face her and with his characteristic timidity, asked “Mother will you sing me a lullaby? I can’t fall asleep..”