Do I live only for suffering? ENG version

Hunger

1924, november

Credence clamped his legs tightly as he was lying in his bed. It was late night, and the house was as silent, as death. The only noise, which broke this silent was the loud rumble of his stomach. He grabbed his legs even tighter. He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to think about the hunger. He has been hungry before, moreover he was getting use to this feeling over the years, but this was far the longest time since his last eating. It was the fifth day, when he was sent to his room during dinner time. In these occassions he went upstairs in silence, with a stinging consciousness. At this evening he felt like he isn't even walking on the floor, only drifting. He lurched as he was trying to walk, he needed to hang on to the handrail to push himself up on the stairs. His mother noticed his precariousness, and she barked at him angry.

- Dont act like you are dying Credence, you know I cant stand, when someone plays the martyr!

The boy immediately released the hadrail, took a deep breath and tried to walk faster. He knew, that he is lucky, hunger is still better, like the pain, which is caused by the belt, tearing into his meat like an angry snake.

As he was lying on his bed, he tried to breath calmer, and not to get lost among his painful memories. It never succeeded. What is the purpose of his life? Does he live only for suffering? Sometimes he wished to die. He was nothing. He cant behave right, he caused only sadness to his mother with his sinful life. If I would die right now, no one would miss me... - he thought. Perhaps Modesty would cry, and maybe even Chastity would sigh when she would hear it, but they would forget him quickly. His mother wouldnt feel anyhing. The only person he wanted to love and care about him for years would turn its back to his dead body. Credence would not blame her for it. He was a flawed product, that even the persistent punishments – lectures - couldnt fix. He hated himself. He hated, that he is still shaking, and tears are burning his eyes, when his mother tried to discipline him. He hated, that he forces her to punish him constantly. He was watching jealously the children on the streets for years, who climbed to their parent's hands, and looked up to them with adoration, and the parents answered with a kind smile, or a fondling. He wanted to feel the same, and to get this reaction from his mother. But the years slowly taught him, that this will never happen with them. He even doubt it, that it will happen with anyone. That some day, someone will look at him with sparkling eyes, and give him the love, he always wanted.

Thoughts like these kept him awake the whole night, so when the first rays of sun shined through his small window, he felt himself even more tired and haggard, then the last night. He sat up in his bed slowly, but he felt dizzyness in his head. He rubbed his face with his cold hands, tried to fight back the black shadows, which floated to his sight. He took a deep breath, and stood up. His clothes from the previous day laid on a chair. His only change of clothes was sill dirty, his mother allowed washing only once a week, because of frugality. He started to get dressed carefully, he paid attention to tuck in his buttoned shirt tightly into his trousers, and to clench his tie tautly. His mother liked, when everything fits tightly on him. The last thing was his belt, which teased him from the chair. He reached for it with a shaking hand, then grabbed it and quickly twisted it around his hip. He sighed relieved, when he felt its grip. It never meant anything good, when it wasnt on him during the day.

When he finished the dressing, he heard the life started up in the house. The walls were thin, and he heard that Chastity is moving next door. Probably she is getting dressed right now. – he tought. Usually until the sun came up they were downstairs, ready to listen their mother about the daily tasks. He heard, that his mother opened the tap in the bathroom. She was always the first in the toilet, the children can spend only after her there a few minutes. Mother did not like to wait for them downstairs. As Mary Lou finished, Credence stepped out from his room, to quickly get his things done before the girls wanted to go in the bathroom. As he walked past his mother, the woman only wasted a cold look to his son. Credence avoided her look, and hurried to the bathroom. As he looked in the mirror, a tallow-faced, skinny boy stared back to him. He quickly snapped away his gaze from it. He only started to brush his teeth, when Chastity knocked on the door.