The little boy sat forlornly in the stiff wooden stool his mother had pinned him in, crudely chopping his hair.

"Piece of shit. Fucking freak. FREAK." She screeched at him. "You deserve this. Do you know why?" The little boy sat wordless, eyes to the ground. She roughly grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks between her fingers and thumb. "I SAID do you know WHY!?"

"Because I'm a devil child, Mommy."

"And?!"

"You should've aborted me...I ain't been worth nothin' to you my whole life." The boy peered up at her, tears brimming on his eyes. The words hurt, even if he hadn't been told anything else his entire life.

"That's right. You're a fucking FREAK! You see this?! You SEE this?!" She held out his shorn hair for him to see. "You should look like me! Like your dad! But you don't. You're a FREAK!" She slapped him hard across the face. "You're the son of SATAN!" She glared down at him. "Go. Get yourself ready before your daddy comes home. He's gonna have a real good night tonight. You piece of shit fucking freak." She kicked the stool out from under him, sending him toppling to the floor. He picked himself up and fled to his room, slamming the door behind him.

He sat and drew in his little notebook he had stolen from the store, dreaming about the life the wished he had. He wished his mother didn't hit him. He wished his father didn't do the unspeakable things that he did to him. He wished their friends didn't do the same while they sat and laughed and laughed. He wished he could be someone else. Anyone else. He wished they had given him a name so that he could change it, and be whoever he wanted to be.

In his fantasy world, sometimes he was Otis B. Driftwood. He had never seen any of the pictures themselves, but he could read well enough about them in the magazines and papers his parents left lying around.

He felt something cool and moist on his forehead, stroking down his cheek. He tried to lift his head, to no avail. He felt like lead, every part of his body was heavy.

"Mama! Mama! I think he's comin' to!"

"Oh, sweetie, leave him alone. He needs to rest."

"I know! I just want him to feel safe. Daddy said he's real skittish. Like a springtime fawn."

He heard a sweet laugh. "And you think hoverin' over him's gonna do that?"

"...I want him to feel loved. Probably never been loved before in his life..."

Otis forced his eyes open, groaning with the effort. While his vision was blurry still, he could see the outline of two blonde women.

"Well hey there, honeydew!" She finally came into focus. Beautiful blonde curls cascading beside her gorgeous face. She looked like a baby doll dressed as an angel. She was sitting in a chair beside the bed, stroking his arm gently. "Mama! Look at his eyes!"

Another woman came into focus. She was older, and slightly less attractive, but still good-looking. She smiled sweetly at him. "Hello, sweetheart. Yes, Vera. His eyes are red. He's an albino. See how pale he is? That's not just because he's so sick."

"You look like you seen a ghost, mister!" The girl named Vera giggled. "That's okay. You're just unique! Ain't nothin' wrong with that."

Otis broke into a coughing fit again. He was barely strong enough to cause the convulsions. Panicked, he gasped for air. "Shh, easy, easy...You just relax now, baby. It'll all be alright." The older woman stroked his hair out of his face. He tried to flinch, but he couldn't make himself move. The older woman noticed his eyes squint shut in response to her touch. "Aw sweetie we ain't gonna hit you. You're alright. You're safe with us."

"You're real sick, mister." Vera chimed in. "Grampa said you coulda died. We weren't sure if you'd make it through the night."

Otis simply looked at her, still wary of the whole situation. He wasn't as fearful as before. The women seemed genuine in their statements, and their actions weren't contrary.

"You just rest now, sweet boy." The older woman cooed. "You'll be alright." She pulled the blanket higher on his chest. "You just let us know if you need anything. It'll all be alright, now"

Otis felt his eyelids fall shut again as she uttered her final reassurance.

The little boy tensed when he heard his bedroom door click open. He turned to see the tall figure standing there, cigarette hanging off of his lip. He smelled the alcohol before he smelled the smoke. He tasted the blood in his mouth before he could fully register what happened. His father had punched him in the face and split his lip. Blows fell on him again and again. The little boy heard cracking and screamed loudly as pain exploded throughout his chest. His father grabbed his arm and put his cigarette out on his white flesh. The boy whimpered in protest, tears spilling down his face.

"Shh, shh...You're alright, Otis." Vera cooed. She had been staying with him, watching over him in case he had needed anything. He had started whimpering in his sleep. Helpless, painful sounds that tore at her heart. He was trembling, despite the pain that the movement caused.

He forced his eyes open once more to peer at the girl. He tried to force himself to speak, to no avail. He simply croaked.

She giggled in response. "Don't go trying to exhaust yourself on my account. You don't need to say anything." She lightly stroked the bare flesh on his chest. "You got goosebumps, there, Mister. You cold? Here, let me fix that!" She gently pushed him upward, eliciting a groan in response as she jarred his feverish form. Once she had settled under him, she allowed him to lie back against her, resting her arm over his chest. "Shh, now just relax. Ain't no one gonna hurt ya." Dipping a washcloth in the cool water that her mother had placed at his bedside, she gently placed it on his forehead.

He peered up at her, unsure of her motive. She giggled at him, gently stroking his hair. "Wish I could get my hair as white as yours. Sure is pretty." She noticed him blinking rapidly every time she touched his head. She sighed deeply. "Daddy said you had a rough life...But he didn't say how. Just that people hurt you..." She sighed, woefully. "You don't deserve to be hurt bad enough to make you flinch like that..."

If you only knew... he thought, the darkness brought on by the drugs overcoming him.