OC Origins: Curtis

Chapter 2: The child

Hello my beasties! I have another chapter ready for my origin story of your favorite charming monster(this takes place almost 7 years later, so he's almost 7 years old in this chapter)! Oh and just so you know if  you see something like this, with a bunch of words(not dates or place, that's location stuff, or if it has the title of a flashback. This is so you guys don't get confused!)  that will be Curtis adding in his own thoughts to the story! Hope you like the chapter!

1795, midnight

A young boy sat up in bed, screaming in terror. His green eyes darted around in fright as he panted in fright. Then, suddenly realizing his surroundings, he calmed down a bit, realizing he was still in his bedroom unharmed.

It was only another nightmare, nothing more. He had been having nightmares the past year or so, happening over the span of two days, then seemingly stopping before starting again. His young mind whirling with terror.

Why did he keep having such awful nightmares? The only good thing was that he could never

He could hear his Uncle Peter coming over from across the hall. If he came in here again, he'd probably get yelled at for "raising Cain" and maybe get that "whupping" that he was always threatened Curtis with for his nighttime outbursts.(He usually called him a bastard child as he was yelling at him. Curtis didn't know what a bastard was, but he could assume that it wasn't anything good.)

He held his breath and burrowed under his covers as he heard the footsteps approaching his room. Maybe if he stayed quiet and still, his uncle would leave him alone.

The door opened. "Sweetheart?" The voice didn't belong to his uncle, no it was his mother.

Curtis peered out of the sheets, his black hair mussing up as he did, a sense of relief flowing over him.

His mother stood in the doorway, worry in her brown eyes.

"Did you have another nightmare, baby?"

He nodded.

His mother sighed, then came and sat down on the bed beside him. "You know you mustn't scream like that, someone might hear."

"I know, but I don't even know why it happens!"

A strange, almost eerily calm look came over his mother's face. "You need to learn how to control yourself, if your uncle witnesses another incident, he might throw us out."

When she saw how  forlorn her son looked, she responded. "You may not understand it now, but everything that I do is to protect you. And all I want is for you to be safe, okay baby?"

"Okay." Curtis knew that his mother only wanted what was best for him, that's why she told him not to scream from the nightmares, told him to ignore the strangely hypnotic pulse of life that he could seem to hear from everyone he met, and to pretend he was a normal boy. But what was he protecting him from exactly?

"Now, do you want me to read you a story?"

"Yeah! Can you read this one?" He held up the book on the table beside his bed.

It was a storybook, bound in black leather, with silver script on the front. The title read: Les enfants perdus. A/n: this is a real story! It's an older version of Hansel and Gretel, but the children are called Jean and Jeanette who are captured by the devil and a witch and are held captive in a forest. The children use their minds and wills to outsmart and murder their dark tormentors before they can be eaten. It's kind of an inspiration for this story you read right now....

"Alright, now let's begin." She opened up the book and began to read. "Once, there lived a boy and a girl..."

Curtis sat by his mother, captivated by every word she read. If things weren't always the best, she was there to make them right. He pushed out his troubling thoughts from earlier, except the wonder of what she was protecting him from.....

Yeah,my mom was a wonderful lady. Among my bastard of an uncle, and my aunt that always made sure that she stayed away, she was a godsend who always made sure I was protected. And the best part was, she loved me. Real love, not the type of "love" from my uncle when he yelled at me about the condition of my already hell-bent soul. But real, unconditional love, every day of my young life in that house. She really made life in that house almost bearable. But yet, I never understood one thing. Where my father was. I knew then that every child had a father, but mine seemed to be missing in my life. But when I asked, she avoided the question. It was not long after, that I began to wonder what exactly she was protecting me from......

Hello my beasties! I hope you enjoyed another chapter of Curtis's origin. You're probably wondering three things right now.

One, was six year old Curtis a precious smol? The answer: yes he was!

And two, what exactly is his mother protecting him from? (I know, and I can't tell, because that would spoil.)

Three, are the nightmares and other things symptoms of some sort? And if they are, what does it signify? (Yes they are and I can't tell you just yet.....)

Anyway, I'll see you soon my beasties!