The Raw Calm

The Source

Written sometime during 2016.

☘️

My mother was a beautiful woman. I see her everywhere. Dad has hung up photos of her all down the halls, all in his room, all in every room. And it's impossible to spot the difference between her and I. We are the same. That is why I inherited her name, Sybil, even though I am a boy.

Mum was a strong woman when it came to everything but my father. She was a leader, yet she let my dad take control of her. Dad takes control of everyone. Mum should have gone for someone better. Maybe then, she would have been alive. Maybe then, I would not have existed. I'm fine with that.

I wish I was never born.

I wish dad never kept me in this room. I want to grow, like all the other boys. He knows one day I will outgrow this dress, and that mum will be lost forever. I don't know if he can handle it.

☘️

I feel like I killed mum.

Because if I wasn't born, she would still be alive. And after all the nothing mum got, she at least deserved to live a bit more.

I don't know why I feel so strongly about her. I never met her. Maybe it's because we are the same person that I feel so sad. Maybe it's because dad has plastered her on every wall. I don't know. I just want to live normally.

I want to escape.

So I exit my room. So I walk into the front yard. So I dig a hole under the wall.

So I am caught.

And dad beats my legs until they turn purple. Until they bend at angles they shouldn't. Until all the blood in my legs runs dry. Until it paralyses me.

And I cry. Because if I can't crawl, if I can't climb, how am I to leave and live? I can't.

Dad says he doesn't want me to leave again, so I don't. I stay, and he gives me a wheelchair. He says I look as beautiful as the day he met me. I know he means mum. He looks past his son, and deep into my eyes, he sees my soul, my heart, and he sees mother. Now it is time for bed. Dad dresses me in my nightgown and leaves. But I can't sleep.

☘️

My throbbing limbs make it difficult to get comfortable. I find I cannot sleep. I lift up my dress and remind myself that I am a boy. That I am not my mother. That I am my own person. But no matter how much I pull and tug, I don't feel like I belong to myself.

I feel like I am my mother, and go to sleep with the comfort of a pillow wet with tears.

And then it is the next day. My dad gives me breakfast in bed, says that I am to be confined for the time being. I want to tear his horns off but I comply.

I eat. I sleep. I stare out the window. I want to go to the outside world.

I look at mum's face again. Am I really her? I wish I wasn't. I want to be myself.

☘️

The days continue.

And today is the day my voice breaks, and my dad is there to witness it.

He doesn't hesitate with getting a hammer and smashing between my legs.

And I scream. Acid gurgles in my throat. Dad says I need to stay like mum. I need to stay like his wife. Like Sybil. Because that's who I am.

I crumple to the ground. I feel but nothing is there. Nothing but blood and sadness and I want to kill him. But I can't. Because I'm so hungry and my eyes are closing and I'm losing blood. So dad lifts me onto my bed and feeds me porridge with a spoon until I fall asleep.

I wake up and feel for it. It's been stitched. There truly is nothing there. Nothing that will ever make me a man.

☘️

I am suddenly filled with anger. And hatred and everything bad that my mother did not feel because she is pure. So I guess I am not like my mother.

I'm a monster and I want to fucking kill him.

So I crawl to the chair next to the window. My legs are numb but between them I am on fire. I grab the leg of the chair, and I unscrew it. My nails are bleeding, my perfect, Sybil nails, but I don't care. Because I am not her.

So I grab the screw, and hide it behind my back. I slip back into bed and wait for my father to visit me again.

If almost on cue, he opens the door. He says he's sorry and that he loves me. But I know he just loves my mother.

So I grab the giant nail,
and ram it
into his
fucking
skull.

Again and again until his features become unrecognisable.

And then his blood runs up my arm
into my eyes
and into my mouth
and I feel like I am dying.

But I don't die.

☘️

My father could heal even those on the brink of death. And with his death, his powers were mine.

I heal my legs. I heal my eyes and my burning throat. But I keep my final part missing. To put shame on my mother's name. Because I am my mother and now, she is me.

I walk out of my room. It has been months since I have walked these halls. I tear off my gown and wrap myself with the towel my father had in his arms.

And a scarlet-haired devil sees me. So I smile and walk away. But out of the corner of my eyes I see her scatter to my father's place. Says he was a good man. She cries as if she cared for him. And it alerts everyone else.

And so I kill everyone else. With the powers my mother had left with me. And I take their force, their aggression, their feelings and their years. But one of their voices tells me that the red demon will be useful in the future. So I leave that child to wallow in the blood of everyone she knew.