Numb: The Genesis

II. Alienated

Memories are not to be forgotten. I didn't forget them, but... I was trapped in them. Besides, there was nothing else to think about.

"Wake up, dear," Mamma's gentle voice greeted me, "C'mon, you must be dressed for breakfast." I was half-asleep and rubbed my eyes. She tickled me like she always did, "Happy birthday, Hans!" She kissed my cheek, "Let's get you dressed."

--

Everyone was seated at the table, well into their meals. I was utterly excited. Mamma said that this was my big day. I wanted, at least, someone to greet me happy birthday.

"May I please speak, Pappa?" No one was talking anyway.

"Go on, it'd better not be any nonsense."

"What is the date today?" Maybe this will strike his memory.

"Don't you look at the calendar every morning, boy?"

"I'm afraid not, Pappa. I was just wo-"

"I said no nonsense, Hans."

I turned to my mother, who was on the side, "But Mamma..." Papa looked quickly upset as Mamma gave me a look of pity.

"I've had enough of this. The maids will have to deal with you, boy," he cleared his throat, "Annika, please excuse Hans from the table and prepare him for his fencing lessons. The lessons will teach him discipline."

"Yes, Your Highness." I was taken back to my room.

--

My eyes started to water as I was getting undressed. I was hurt. I was held by the arms by a firm grasp.

"Hans, we can't do this. In front of your father..." My clothes were taken out of the drawers.

I sniffled and wiped my nose, "What do you mean?"

"You can't be doing that in front of the king and queen. It's not good for the Westergård family name. It brings about trouble— you have to call me 'Annika.'"

"I can't call you 'Mamma?'"

"Now, but otherwise, your father won't allow it. There's risk in this, darling."

"Papa's always being mean to you. Telling you to do this, do that."

"Dear, it's my job. You know that."

"Why aren't you the queen?"

"I just aren't. I would tell you all the truth, but it's too much for you to handle. And I would dare not lie."

"You can tell me. Please?"

"No, Hans. I couldn't. Not now at least," she whispered. She clothed me and hugged me tight, "You are a Westergård. Don't you dare think you're any different just because of what they say. You are their brother."

I nodded. I understood what she had said, but why did we both get picked on, mistreated, alienated? She said that I was not any different. But she was wrong. We were both different.