Do I live only for suffering? ENG version

Lack of affection

1924, december

Three weeks have passed since his punishment, and it was the first time Credence could lie on his back, without wanting to cry out loud in pain. The less deep cuts faded into red bruises, and the deep ones were covered with thick dried blood. „I am going to have twelve new white scars." he thought, while he was watching his back with twisted neck in the small mirror of the bathroom. Not like it would matter, no one has ever seen his back.

The days passed in a monotone cycle, he went to the meetings, served food to the children, cleaned the house, or wandered around the city with his leaflets. He hasnt seen Elisabeth since then, he avoided the neighbourhood of her bakery, and hoped, that she wont cross his path. He just couldnt think about her without feeling a stabbing pain in his conciousness. Her kindness and caring couldt suppress his memories about the beating. „I cant, I cant, I cant" Credence repeated in himself. He cant look at her, cant meet with her, cant say anything to her, because it would cause only pain and disdain. „If I wasnt so coward, I could tell her not to escort me home. If I wasnt so weak, I wouldnt take the food from her. If I wasnt so clumsy, I wouldnt fall on the street..." His mother's lessons burned a too deep mark in him to blame anyone else for his suffering. The bitter thoughts were racing in his mind painfully, no matter how hard he tried to make them stop. He was thinking too much. His mother told him several times, that his duty is not the thinking, its the obediance, Credence couldnt stop his mind.

On the monotonous days his thoughts were swirling around his pain, and his sins, repressing the hope and endurance. When he was younger, he hoped, that he will get compliments, and some day, someone tells him he is special, and he earns a honored place in the world. By this time he pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind, where his other desires, whishes, and even dark things, like anger and jealousy were hiden. It was simpiler this way. This way he didnt have to deal with them, altough sometimes he felt the darkness scratching his throat, burning his lungs, but he could always force back the constantly growing shadow to the deepest of his mind. It was harder to repress his wishes and desires, there were days, when he craved so hard, that even his head started to ache. He didnt know what or who he wants exactly, but he felt, he will never get it. Maybe he didnt even deserved it.

He was lost among his thoughts, staring through the window, when he heard, that Modesty and their mother came home from the city at the end of a long day. He quickly snatched away his gaze from the sight of the street, and turned back to the enormous table, where great piles of leaflets laid. Before she left, his mother demanded him to sort them, and he wasnt finished at all. He continued his work in a hurry, when he heard, that Mary Lou locked the front door after entering to the house.

- Do you understand, Modesty? – her sharp voice almost cut the air.

Credence stood backwards, but he was sure, that Modesty nodded while looking into their mother's eyes. The little girl never bowed her head down, there was some kind of pride, or just bluntness, which made her staring to the other's eyes.

- Alright. But remember, soon you will be old enough to have more responssibility for your actions, and I wont forgive you things like this – she looked to her daughter with a warning in her eyes. – Go, wash you hands, we have dinner soon – she added, and Credence saw from the corner of his eyes, that Modesty rushed to the stairs. Mary Lou turned to the table, to have a look on Credence's work. He didnt even dare to take a breath, as he waited for the judgement.

- Set out the table, then help Chastity to bring the food in. You will finish this after dinner. You get half an hour, not more with a second – these words left his mother's mouth, for Credence's suprise. She almost never gave respite, when she caught him with unfinished work. He looked dubiously at her, but then quickly looked away. He lowered his head, stepped to the cupboard, and started to take out spoons and bowls. This time he set the table for himself too. After the last incident, his mother didnt want to risk of he pass out again, and take home another „insane, wicked woman", as she said. So he got food again, altough never enough to settle down the burning emptyness in his stomach. When he finished the table, he walked to the kitchen. Chastity was almost done with the food, which – from its smell- seemed carbagge soup. She noticed Credence's dubious look, who stared back to their mother, like he is still waiting for his punishment.