When he awoke, his eyes burned from the intrusion of dusty air and his body ached with fatigue. He looked blindly around the room momentarily as he pushed himself off the mattress and slowly moved through the bleak room, squinting to try and see through the thick haze set in front of his brain.
He put a hand to the handle and pushed, jerking on it. It didn't open. He tried harder and his breath caught in his throat when he realized his mother was teaching him a lesson.
He grudgingly made his way, falling only twice, to the bed. Blankets gone, window open, and nothing but only pillow lie there.
She was most certainly angry.
It was a cold winters night, and with a window open and no blankets, he may as well try and sleep as comfortably as he could for now, before the real freeze came in.
He closed his fist tightly, digging the nails into his calloused flesh from the many years of dealing with the wooden handle of knives and being cut by them repeatedly out of mistakes.
He closed his eyes tightly.
He'd never told anyone, but the cold and hot weather made his head throb, and tighten. It felt as though someone were pushing on the sides of his head with brass knuckles.
He lied down, trying to position himself away from the biting wind whipping wildly through the window. He bit his lower lips as he begun to feel his jaw vibrate and teeth chatter nosily.
Where was Father, now? Was he in midst of a snowy, abandoned valley? Was he on a boat somewhere doing some business trading? Was he..dead? That would explain a lot.
A tear tried to break away from his eye, but it was impossible. His emotions were as stripped as his mattress.
YOU ARE READING
The Butcher
Fanfiction-The Butcher. Those who knew him, feared him. Those who didn't fear him, were dead. No one knew the past behind the man. This is his story.
