His eyes slowly opened, the room spun before him and his heart pounded in his chest. Sweat beaded across his eyebrows and his eyes searched the room quizzically. It was supposed to be cold, right? Wasn't it early morning?
He looked slowly to the left, seeing the sun peeking up over the emerald sea of quivering grass. Yes, it was morning.
A tender hand touched his skin and his eyes slowly moved back to the right to come into eye contact with the soft features of his mother.
She looked quietly down at him and then left in a fluttering mess of expensive materials, the door still remained open however, and another, darker figure walked in quietly.
Bill looked at the figure with quiet and unexprssed fear, though it rose in his soul and laced the sides of his heart. He swallowed and felt the sore dryness in the back of his throat.
He cringed and let the moisture prick at the back of his eyes.
"Bill?"
He let out a soft sigh when he recognized the voice as Wendy.
"W-Wendy?" He whispered softly, the scene before him still confusing and frustrating.
Why, if it was so cold, was he soaked in sweat? He was confused. He looked down at the folded over wet rag she had in her hand. She always carried it around when someone was ill in the family. Whether it be another slave, or his mother, himself and his father before his mysterious disappearance.
"Is someone sick?"
"Yes, honey, someone is very sick." She replied thoughtfully after only a moment's hesitation. She placed the soft rag onto his forehead and he leaned into the cool sensation spreading across his body.
"When will they get better, Wendy?"
"I don't know, Bill. But maybe if we pray really hard, it'll be soon."
"Wendy, I saw mama..I saw mama and that dark man out in the shed. They were havin' sex, Wendy. I know what sex is."
Wendy nodded, though her eyes quivered and tears welled up in her eyes. She knew that in the condition his mother was wanting to keep him as punishment for the sights he had seen, this young boy would eventually die.
"B-Bill, honey. I need to tell you something sweetheart. Do you know how long you've been asleep?"
Bill didn't reply, but simply stared out the window as the birds fluttered around the sky. Wendy raised a glass of cool water to his chapped lips and Bill greedily sucked the entire glass down.
Wendy sat down on the wooden table beside him, trying to raise the sheets up further.
"You've been asleep for about half a week, Bill. The doctor says...Bill...I...I shouldn't be the one to tell you this...It should be your mother...but she can't. She told me to do it..." Wendy admitted quickly, tears suddenly falling down her face. "Baby, I know it does't mean anything to you now, but you should know this for when you get older. This illness you got...it's made it so when you get older, you wont be able to have any children.."
Bill digested this quickly and without thought. All he could think of was the soreness in his throat, his swollen face, and the pounding headache banging around in his head. And again, he closed his eyes.
"Bill..Billy Willy, I'm gonna get you outta here, baby. But just in case we don't make it...I gotta tell you something. Open your eyes, honey."
Bill forced himself to re-open his eyes, they searched her nervous brown orbs as they watched every expression his tired face made. "Bill, your father. I know where he is...he's in the war."
Bill's eyes once more slowly begun to close.
But this time, he calculated the words with much more careful thought as his heart sunk in his chest.
He knew it...
He was dead.
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.
