Fragmented Morality

Ch. 4

The sun had not long risen, bringing about the noises of the morning. The sounds of cicadas chirping loudly in the distance hung in my ears as I found myself completely awake and unable to spend another second tucked away.

At first, I had enjoyed the morning atmosphere, I found the distant drone to be peaceful, but after having to listen to it -with my thoughts as my only company- for an extended period of time, the tent became stuffy.

Deciding I needed some fresh air, I tried to get up, despite the unavoidable pain that seemed to writhe from my muscles, protesting against my every movement. It was quite clear that even if I felt it was time to rise, my body had other plans. At that point, though, I didn't care how my body felt, I needed to do something other than laze around in a tent.

After a couple of different attempts at getting up, I found myself completely out of breath, as I somehow finally managed to get to my feet. It was a massive struggle, one that was successful until I was faced with a different, but not entirely separate problem. Like after doing strenuous exercises without stretching afterwards, my muscles had contracted, they felt so impossibly tight that I couldn't extend my body to its full height. I was physically stuck in a hunched position and the act of straightening up made it feel as if my entire being was stretching past its limits.

While thinking of possible ways to get out of my predicament, I came to the conclusion that my only option was to carry on since there was no way for me to get back down without the same amount of struggle it had taken to get up in the first place.

With that thought in mind and with bent knees, I wrapped my arms around my stomach to support the trunk of my body, my gaze glued to the ground in concentration. I was dreading the moment that would take place just a few seconds later; I was dreading having to move my limbs, let alone force my back straight.

Sucking in some air, I tightened my hold around my bruised abdomen in a way to encourage myself to move. Just do it, move. The second I stretched out my torso, I felt my spine crackle from my coccyx, all the way to the middle of my back, audibly protesting my life choices. And while I was now standing upright, I felt sick, my organs shifting as if they were being forced back into place from where they had moulded to my step-father's boot.

My shoulders still slightly hunched, I started to understand just how much I needed to rest after the breath I exhaled shook nearly as much as my legs under the dead weight of my battered body. However, even with the tension that occupied my every joint and muscle, none of it seemed to prevent me from limping outside of my shared tent, straight into the view of everyone outside.

The shocked stares I received the moment someone saw the state of my face made my skin crawl, it felt almost itchy as all of it was unwanted attention. I wasn't self-conscious of how I looked, I wasn't ashamed of what happened and kept happening, but that didn't stop the eyes of strangers from leaving me uncomfortable and irritated.

Knowing they wouldn't stop any time soon, I chose to keep my head down and hope that maybe the shadows cast from my defining features and growing hair would wash out some of the obvious colourings of my skin.

Again, I wasn't necessarily embarrassed by what happened, I had no reason to be. I protected my mother and, if anything, I should have been proud, but to watch them stare at me as if they didn't know what was going on, as if they were surprised that a violent person would do the obvious and abuse someone to the extent that Ed abused me- it stirred unwanted emotions. Their shock and pity made me feel resentful of them, it made me uncomfortable and the fact they had that effect on me made me feel weak.

I hated the attention, for this reason, however, I refused to let them know how they made me feel. Instead, I continued on until I found my mother a little into the camp finishing up ironing some of the clean clothes. I couldn't help but think there must have been a lot of clothes for her to be doing the ironing two days in a row.