Through an Innocent's Eyes
Told you I'd be uploading soon. BTW, I made a mistake in my last chapter. I said James was seven, but in this fic, he's six. Just so you guys know.
Ch. 4 A Party to Remember
Within a week, James felt as though he had spent his whole life living with his aunts. His whole life was one misery after another. His aunts woke him at dawn everyday; if not with words, than with their fists. If he was lucky, they would leave him a small apple or orange on the table for his breakfast. But more often than not, the table was bare and he would be forced to get to work. It seemed like his aunts had let everything in their house go into disrepair just so that James would have plenty of work to do. His chores consisted of, but were not limited to chopping wood, drawing water, cleaning up the house and taking care of the peach tree. But no matter how much care the tree was given, nothing grew or bloomed. Thankfully, though, James was not punished for this; he had often heard his aunts complaining of how the tree never bloomed.
Of course, that didn't mean his aunts let up on their beatings. James would be punished for a number of things, from not doing the chores they way Aunt Spiker and Sponge wanted them done (although they never told him how they wanted James to go about his work), from disagreeing with them on any subject. Under the "care" of his aunts, James now sported new bruises on a daily basis. He was also getting thinner, as a result of his aunts not wanting to feed him and the color began to drain from his face, giving him a slightly pale appearance. In order to ensue that he didn't starve to death entirely, James now made sure to sneak bits of food whenever he could, usually a half piece of bread or a small piece of fruit. He didn't like doing it, but if he didn't, he would most definitely get sick.
One day, after living with his aunts for two weeks, James was told to clean the house thoroughly. The child immediately obeyed, though Aunt Spiker smacked his arm a bit to hurry him along. However, much to James's surprise, his aunts left the house, got into their rusting car, and drove away. James watched them from the window, feeling very confused; his aunts never went anywhere. For a brief moment, he considered escaping the house. But the thought left his mind almost as soon as it entered. Running away never solved anything, as his parents had told him after reading about a young runaway in the paper one morning, and besides, where would he go? With a heavy sigh, James commenced to cleaning the house as best as he could, always keeping an ear open for his aunts' return. But they did not come back.
Finally, as the sun set and James had finally finished his chores, the little boy heard the all-too-familiar sound of a car approaching. There was a brief silence followed by the kitchen door opening and Aunt Spiker calling him.
"Where are you, brat? Get in here!" Then Aunt Sponge chimed in.
"Hurry up, disgusting boy! Or shall we call for the rhino?" James winced at those words; besides often talking about how worthless his parents had been, Spiker and Sponge never stopped taunting James that the rhino that killed his mother and father would come back for him one day, especially if he was bad.
James entered the kitchen to see his aunts, dressed up and with tons of make-up caking their faces, placing wine bottles all over the table. Aunt Spiker whirled around and glared at James.
"Is the house clean?"
"Yes, Auntie Spiker. I cleaned the house all day."
"Good. Now, listen up. We're having guests over tonight and you will not show yourself to them unless we call you into the living room. Got that?"
"Yes, Auntie Spiker." Now it was Aunt Sponge's turn.
"If we call you to clear plates, you'll clear plates. If we need you to bring us something, you'll bring it. You will ask no questions."
"Yes, Auntie Sponge." Aunt Spiker suddenly grabbed James's shoulder roughly, making her nephew wince as her fingers came into contact with a bruise she had left on his shoulder the day before. She pushed James into a chair and held him there for a moment.
"Do not move from here, do you understand me? If you move, the beatings your Aunt Sponge and I have given you will be nothing compared to what we'll do to you if you move. Understand me? Do. Not. Move." James could only nod this time; the power of speech had left him.
"How many times do I have to tell you to answer me with words?" Aunt Spiker snarled, slapping James's cheek. James ducked his head, but was spared further punishment when Aunt Sponge called,
"Oh Spiker! They're here!" Without another word, each of James's aunts grabbed a bottle of wine and headed off to the living room. James rubbed at his cheek as his ears caught the sounds of voices.
"Mary and Harold! How are you?" James cocked his head in surprise; his aunts sounded different when they weren't talking to him. But James knew all too well not to be fooled by their nice-sounding voices.
"Wonderful, wonderful! And you, my dear?"
"Couldn't be better!"
"Are you certain about that?" a man's voice asked. "I though you had a child living with you now?"
"Oh, him! Well, he's a problem child, to be sure. But what do you expect from our brother's child. Not to mention the child of that little minx he married."
"Indeed so. But Spiker and I are teaching him his place; he'll learn to behave if it kills him."
"I should hope so. You can't go easy with children, you know. Why I remember when…" James placed his arms on the table and laid his head down on top of them. He didn't want to listen anymore; he knew that all he would hear were insults directed at him and his late parents. Looking out the window, James watched as the sun set. He lifted his head as the first star appeared in the sky. For a brief moment, his mother's sweet voice filled his mind as a two-year-old memory played behind his eyes.
"Look, James. The first star just came out. Make a wish."
"Will it come true, Mother?"
"Only if you don't tell, darling."
James remembered that he had wished for a surprise in his life. He also remembered that the next day, he and his parents spent the day walking along the beach and his father had found a baby seal trapped in the rocks. Together, the small family had freed the little animal and it had jumped back into the sea. But to everyone's surprise, it kept popping back up, as if to reassure itself that its rescuers were still there. James smiled, remembering how the seal had only left when James and his parents finally went home. Then, the little creature had swum out into the depths, were the sound of a huge bull seal barking could be heard.
James knew that his wish had been granted then and with that memory in mind, the child sat up and fixed his brown eyes on the star.
"I wish," he whispered quietly to himself. "I wish that I could find a real family to live with. My aunts don't like me and they're really mean to me. I don't want to stay here anymore. Please, I just want to live with people who will love me."
James kept his eyes on the star, even as other little lights joined it in the black velvet sky. James let his head fall back onto his arms. Slowly, his eyes began to close as the peaceful summer night worked its magic on the little boy. James had almost fallen prey to sleep when his Aunt Spiker's harsh voice cut through his mind like a sharp knife.
"Get in here, you! Now!" Quickly, James scurried to obey the command. Upon reaching the living room, James noted that all four adults seemed to be in a very good mood. There were eight open win bottles on the table between the two couches. His aunts sat on the left couch, the guests sat on the right. James stiffened as the adults noticed his presence. The two guests- a husband and wife- were dressed up just like his aunts. The woman was lithe and bony like Aunt Spiker, though her hair was light brown and her eyes hazel. Her skin was pinched and she was dressed entirely in black velvet. The man was average-sized, but quite fat and almost completely bald. He was wearing a tuxedo that looked sweat-stained and slightly wrinkled. He raised a bushy eyebrow at James.
"That him?"
"That's the boy." The woman sniffed.
"Small thing. You sure he'll last long?" she asked in a screechy voice, as though James were a runty puppy. Aunt Sponge waved her hand carelessly.
"Who knows? Now, what do you need him for?" At her words, the man heaved himself off the sofa with a tired sigh. His watery eyes met James's and he scowled.
"How old are you boy?"
"S-s-six, sir."
"Six? Huh, he is small. Still, we could have fun with him all the same."
"Have fun with him, Harold?" Aunt Spiker asked, wrinkling her nose.
"Don't worry, Spiker, I won't scar him permanently. But after hearing about this boy of your, I though it best to ensure that fully understands why he should mind his elders."
"Don't worry," the man's wife said. "Harold's good at disciplining children. We don't have any, of course, but he knows."
"Well, then, carry on. Let's see how you fare with this little worm," Aunt Sponge said, picking up her glass of wine and smiling.
Trembling at the idea of being "disciplined," James watched as Harold walked behind the sofa and pulled out a small bag. He put in a pudgy hand and drew out a thick belt with a huge silver buckle. He turned back to James, a wicked smile on her face.
"Know what this is, boy?"
"Yes, sir. It's a belt." Harold sneered and began slowly walking toward James, who backed up.
"Right again, boy. And now I'm going to show you a much better use for a belt than what its makers intended." Suddenly, Harold swung the belted end of the buckle at the little boy, but James, seeing it, quickly dodged to one side. While he managed to avoid the blow, his actions only made Harold furious.
"Come back here, you!" he yelled. And now, the other adults were just as angry. James gasped as his aunts grabbed him while Mary, the other woman, consoled her husband for missing his strike.
"You little brat! Disgusting, rotten worm! How DARE you move!" James's aunts rained blow after blow on him, but the child could not move. He could only keep his head down and pray for the abuse to stop soon. And in about five minutes, James's aunts stopped. Much to his surprise, he was told to leave their sight and go to bed. The child obeyed without question, incredibly thankful to have escaped being hit with the belt. Unfortunately, it was all he had to be thankful for.
James ran all the way up to his room, not halting until he was safely inside and had closed his door. But even with the door closed, James could still hear Harold raving downstairs.
"Appalling! Absolutely appalling! That boy will never amount to anything! How dare he move away like that?" Had James been older, he might have recognized the fact that the man was drunk, but he was far too young to know so, so he merely curled himself up on his bed and trembled with fear as well as with pain from his fresh hurts.
"Yes, dear," Mary cooed soothingly. "That boy l nothing, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you." Aunt Spiker's voice now joined in.
"Mary's right, Harold. Don't worry, we'll see to it that the little brat understands his place in life." Harold's life now rose.
"You'd be better off sending him to a coal mine, ladies. He may be too much for you to handle."
"Now, now, don't worry about us," Aunt Sponge replied, her voice high. "Spiker and I are tough old birds. We can handle the worm."
"Well, if you're sure," Mary said. In any case, it was nice to see you two again…" The voices faded as the four adults walked outside, the front door slamming behind them. James, meanwhile, drew his blanket around him and clutched his travel book. The little boy began to cry miserably, burying his face into his pillow. But like every other night when he lay cold, hungry, hurt, and scared, no one came to him.