Till Death do us Part

Long gone

"What is wrong little one?"

Slowly the black python slathered down the cupboard door. Blood stained the walls and an old rock hard cot held the tiny child cradling his arm.

"I'm a freak, I should be dead," the small child said brokenly. His voice was steady for what he said but his eyes held the pain that should be in his words.

"What would make you think that?" The python slid onto the wooden boards and up the child's stick thin legs, pooling into the centre as she curled around herself and looked up into the broken eyes.

"Because I should be," the child said stubbornly as fat tears fell down his face and dripped onto the snake's head.

"Never say that child, no person should ever be dead."

"You don't understand! My neck snapped! I should be... dead."

The child's outburst startled the snake who looked up at the hackling. True to what he said, his neck lay at an odd angle, like one that belonged to a corpse who fell down a cliff side.

But this kid, he was most definitely alive. The snake could smell death on him, could see the odd colour of skin and feel the cold hands stroke her head. This child's body was dead. So how was he still alive?

"Freak! Get out here now!"

The child jumped up, looking around frantically before pulling out a cardboard box and emptying its contents. "Hide."

The snake curled up inside as the child placed the box back and exited the small space.

Screaming and crying could be heard, even from inside the box. And when the small child returned, he had blood soaking his clothes and dripping down onto the floor. Noticeable bruises covered his neck and strangled breaths escaped his lungs.

Slowly, the snake removed herself from her box and went to the child's side. Licking off some of the blood before curling on his chest. "Do you have a name, hatchling?"

"Uncle calls me freak."

"That will not do, I shall give you a real name. You shall be Slythist or Sly for short."

"I like it. What is your name?"

"I am Amaythit, but you can call me Ama."

"Night Ama."

"Night hatching."

"Sly, should be more careful," Ama scolded from on top of the child's shoulder.

Sly had his tongue stuck out while he slowly punctured his rotting skin and sewed on a piece of fabric. "I'm trying. It's harder than it looks."

"Your body is decaying, it's a lot slower than it should be, but it is happening," Ama explained, sliding down Sly's shoulders and onto his leg, next to the patch of fabric Sly was trying to sow on.

"It doesn't help that rats keep trying to eat me," Sly grumbled in annoyance. "Done," he cheered in a sing-song way, cutting off the thread of string and putting it in the box with the other supplies.

Ama smelt the patch work skin and nodded, satisfied with the hatchling's work.

"Up! Up! Get up!" The lock on the door that kept little Sly inside was undone as the day started.

Sly petted Ama's head goodbye. He walked out and started the day's chores.

"Ama...?" The snake popped up her head as the child stumbled in, clutching his eye.