What Once Was

Chapter 33- The Green Light

-Alastor POV

September, 1912
New Orleans

Mother had been beaten again by my supposed 'Father' while I had been at the cabin. I think that's the first memory I remember of when I remember the cabin.

I stumbled my way across the forest behind my home, eager to explore the beauty of nature, and that's when I stumbled upon a cabin. The cabin had long been abandoned, that was a fact as I remember going to it when I was a child. It was a simple log cabin, and I believed for it to have been a grand beauty of a log cabin, even though it was covered with vines and blooming wildflowers. It was facing the lake that divided us from the city.

Shrouded with the nature around it, if one stood on the creaking porch and looked onwards, one could see the faint lights of the street a few miles away that would illuminate the new apartments. And if one stood quietly, pad the chirping birds did one hear the faint sounds of cars and people talking.

I would run inside, looking over the furniture that had long been abandoned by the previous owner whom must have left in a hurry for whatever reason. Paintings of landscapes hung above the windows, and some few deers had also been hung along the wall, though with time did their horns manage to support the small invisible cobwebs.

The rug that sat in the middle of the cabin was now torn and had a few holes from the rats that made their way through the night.

And though the cabin did not scream as a home environment I managed to grow some comfort in it. There was an eerie atmosphere around it that I grew comfortable in, but one that He had also grown to like. I believe that after going to that cabin did he make his presence.

I remember going back home, opening the front door eagerly and watching my excitement immediately disappear as I saw my Mothers bloody striken face. Her trembling hands were picking up the leftover pieces of glass that were splattered across the floor. The powerlessness that surged through my body made me grow hopeless and I ran to her, though I felt like she was miles away even though she was nearly feet away.

I knelt down besides her and helped her pick up the shards of glass, she stopped once she saw my hands.

"Alastor, my boy stop it you'll get hurt." She said as she held one of my wrists, she turned to see me with big bold eyes and I noticed the trails of heads run through her cheeks.

"It's okay Mom I swear-

"Alastor what happened to you! Who did this? Was it those rich kids again? Oh my boy.." She stopped worrying about the glass and quickly stood up while I still knelt there. I looked down at my arms, which was what she was referring too with such anguish. Most of my arm was already covered in scars, and now there were a few new ones, freshest open wounded flesh. And with so many across my arms I had grown numb to the pain; I knew that when those kids had cornered me near an alley on my way home, as per usual, that they would stab at me with sharp sticks and if they were lucky, a pocket knife. They would curse at me, telling me I was the wrong skin color and that underneath my skin was the one that would match theirs. That I was nearly there since I was only half 'white'.

Mother had talked to the teachers from school but they couldn't really do anything. Or perhaps they could, but we're paid off by their rich parents. There was no justice for people like me.

Mother did the same routine, which would be dusting off her dress as to make sure there was nothing that could harm either of us, then wash her hands with cold water and go fetch a towel to wrap around me. Once she did, she went to go for bandages and alcohol. It was a bit sad knowing the routine.