Disclaimer: I only own Lydia.
I don't know what day it is.
I've decided the events previous aren't as important, as what I've witnessed at the Ray household.
I had been talking to Charles almost everyday.
One day I told Tiffany to put me in his book bag, which, she did.
"But, why Lydia?" Tiffany uncharacteristically whined.
"I want to know more about him."
She let it drop, and shoved me in feet first.
His book bag was, on further inspection, a burlap sack.
Poor kid...no wonder he was teased.
I vowed to help him some how.
I got my chance later that day.
It was time for the children to leave, and the teacher had passed out homework.
I could hear the shuffle of feet toward the closet used to store student school things.
I gasped as I watched a small delicate hand throw the homework in.
I held my breath.
His hand brushed my dress...
I thought I had been discovered when he yelped.
"EW! Eddie don't pick your nose and then touch me!"
I felt the familiar thump of the sack hitting the firm seat of the bus.
What felt like hours, was actually only five minutes.
I felt myself suspended in air, and then moving.
"Charles?" I said loudly.
The moving stopped, and he opened the bag.
"Lydia!? What are you doing?! If my Momma were to see you...She'd tan my hide and make me dress like a girl for months!"
He had resumed walking, in the woods, I observed.
"Why? I'm here to help you!"
His voice went dead serious.
"I don't need help...Momma says I'm beyond it...She says if there were a god, he would have given her a smart, good, loving, loyal, ADORING son...I'm not."
It's a hurtful thing for a child to hear...I'd know.
My own Mother would tell me those things followed by a...
A BEATING!?
I may have deserved mine, but Charles? Never.
"Charles does your Momma bea..." I started urgently.
"CHERLES'S!" A nasally voice called from from directly in front of us.
Charles started shaking.
I could feel the chills running up and down his body...I was experiencing the same thing.
This woman was short...Charles was taller by at least a few inches....If not more.
"Wher ya bean at bow." She slurred.
"At school Momma, like you...wante...said."
He didn't say wanted?
All parents want their kids in school I thought.
She seemed to sober up.
"SCHOOL?!"
The bag was opened partly.
Charles was crying.
"Momma I only did what you said to! You said you wanted a smart son! Remember?!"
Mrs. Ray looked like someone had slapped her in the face. (I wanted to!)
"Did you just get smart with me?!"
Charles took that to mean she thought he was smart.
He smiled proudly.
"Yes, ma'am, Momma."
Mrs. Ray slapped him in the face.
Charles tumbled to the ground, spitting out a couple teeth.
Sitting up he tried to catch his breath, he looked at his Mother, eyes saucer-like.
Picking up his teeth, and in a wavering voice he asked"
"WHAT WAS THAT FOR MOMMA!?"
It came out louder than intended.
"DON'T RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME YOU WORTHLESS, BASTARD!"
Charles whimpered.
"I'm so sorry Momma. I love you."
His Mother picked up a sharp piece of flint rock.
"Come here Charles."
He cowered behind the sack.
"No Momma."
She dragged him over to a river on the property.
"Charles, maybe after I do this you'll be a better son...Probably not but, I can only ask god...He's never help me before though...I wouldn't have ended up with you if he had."
She cut the boy's wrist.
I fought the urge to vomit.
The putrid liquid built a flood in my windpipe...
I couldn't breathe.
I swallowed it all for Charles sake.
Then she did something completely unexpected and sickening.
"Clean your self up in the river." She commanded.
As the boy bent low, squealing as the brackish water invaded his wounds, his Mother...
Pushed his head under the water, and held it.
For two minutes, bubbles streamed to the top...
I wanted to scream, make her stop hurting him...
After four minutes, no bubbles...
He was barely fighting now...
I panicked and prayed to god I could find a way to save him.
God answered that prayer a moment later when a lone gray wolf moseyed up to the left of me.
This would be fun.
I'd always had a way with wild things...
