At that time, there was a custom... in the region where i was born.
If a baby walked before his first birthday... a heavy ball had to be tied to his back so he would fall over. That way he wouldn't leave his parents when he grew up.
I stood up at 10 months.
As expected, my parents and grandparents gathered around me and tied the ball to my back.
But... i didn't fall down.
I don't know who... but someone pushed my shoulder. I fell over my back. The all looked down at me and laughed. I didn't cry.
They stood up, still looking down at me.
I lay there as if dead.
Later:
I think i was my first ever trip to the barber. I was raised like a girl until i was 2... and had never had my first hair cut.
My mother and i sat in the waiting area. I remember reading a book...and when i glanced up...
The barber's chair had become what i could only assume were executioner's stands. One by one boys climbed onto the platforms... and melted away to nothingness.
It seemed somehow familiar. I looked at my mother. But in her place... was an old witch. The witch said to me
"Those are your brothers."
This is what i understood her words mean:
"You are the only survivor out of countless children who have died"
I developed a habit of playing with my feces. My parents failed to toilet train me. I shat whenever i wished and painted the wall with it.
The pungent smell induced a sort of ecstasy in me. Sometimes i even ate it.
Unable to take it anymore, my parents consulted a doctor. On his advice, they gave me clay as a substitute.
It worked just as he said and i eagerly play with the clay.
My obsession with feces waned and instead i spent day after day making clay figures as if possessed. Soon my room was filled with clay figures.
One day i took all the clay figures and smashed every last one.
That was my first atrocity.
Our pet cat was killed. That cat loved me and i loved me. i cried. I cried and cried all day long. The adults tried to comfort me.
However, they never suspected i... was the killer... and when i myself could no longer believe i killed the cat... i stopped crying.
That was the year before i started primary school.
