Chapter 8: Safety with Remorse
Judeau felt what was flowing through his veins at that period of time as he stood glaring at the large farmer in Daphne's house. "I feel like I'm on fire." He thought, as the farmer raised his arm that held the chicken wire high into the air. "I'm burning up inside, and everything at once is telling me to do one single thing. I have to do it, but why do I think I can so easily?"
"I'm going to kill you." Judeau told the man in an emotionless manner as the injured farmer brought the makeshift whip down and across Judeau's chest. The iron prongs of the wire dug into Judeau's left breast, the spur- like objects tearing at his flesh. Judeau knew he was bleeding, he knew that he was injured. For some reason, however, instead of falling to one knee and whimpering in pain like most children his age would have, he instead held his ground. Without losing his footing or his composure in the slightest, Judeau continued to stare at the man in front of him, begging to be struck another time. "I don't think you heard me old man. I told you that you will die." The words soaked into the farmer like water to a sponge.
Jerking the wire loose from the boy's chest, the farmer raised it once more over his head and aimed for Judeau's face. Judeau moved his left hand to the back of his pants and felt the hilt of another knife he was carrying. As the large man's arm rose like a tower in the sky, Judeau flicked his arm forward and felt the knife leave his hand and travel into the air. Time stood still for a brief moment as the blade met emptiness and then tasted blood.
The knife had hit its target slightly below the chin of the large farmer. Although not very sharp at all, having been Judeau's emergency knife, the blade never the less sunk deep into the man's throat. The man lumbered stupidly around the room for a small amount of time, gurgling and choking on his own blood, the red liquid pouring down his body like it were a rushing river. He then fell to his knees as though they weighed a million pounds and his eyes widened to stare at the small boy who had just killed him. For what seemed like an eternity, their eyes met in that dark and chaotic room. Judeau saw the fear in the man's eyes at knowing that his death was imminent and coming quickly.
As the farmer fell and stopped breathing, a pool of crimson flowing and spreading around his corpse, Judeau just stood in the spot he had been in the entire time and looked down at the man he had just killed. "I murdered someone." Judeau said to himself quietly. "I just killed a man." He raised his hands to reveal that even though he never struck the man with his own arm, he still knew that the farmer's blood was still soaking into his palms. He clenched his fists tightly and then rushed over to where Daphne was still slowly gasping for breath on her blood-drenched bed. Not knowing quite what to do, the young street performer remembered something that was given to him not very long ago.
Pulling out the small pouch that Daphne had given to him as a present when they had first met, he took out a handful of the sparkling dust and then closed his eyes in prayer. "Please work, if there truly is someone out there that looks over others, please let this stuff help her." He opened his eyes slowly and then began to wipe the dust all over Daphne's prone body. She was soon covered in it, the fine powder soon seemingly vanishing as though it were never there. In order to stop her bleeding, Judeau pulled some cloth curtains from her window and wrapped her up in them, and then he fell before her and closed his eyes, not knowing what would happen in the morning, but not caring either. "I want to go far away, I want to be a star now."
Judeau felt what was flowing through his veins at that period of time as he stood glaring at the large farmer in Daphne's house. "I feel like I'm on fire." He thought, as the farmer raised his arm that held the chicken wire high into the air. "I'm burning up inside, and everything at once is telling me to do one single thing. I have to do it, but why do I think I can so easily?"
"I'm going to kill you." Judeau told the man in an emotionless manner as the injured farmer brought the makeshift whip down and across Judeau's chest. The iron prongs of the wire dug into Judeau's left breast, the spur- like objects tearing at his flesh. Judeau knew he was bleeding, he knew that he was injured. For some reason, however, instead of falling to one knee and whimpering in pain like most children his age would have, he instead held his ground. Without losing his footing or his composure in the slightest, Judeau continued to stare at the man in front of him, begging to be struck another time. "I don't think you heard me old man. I told you that you will die." The words soaked into the farmer like water to a sponge.
Jerking the wire loose from the boy's chest, the farmer raised it once more over his head and aimed for Judeau's face. Judeau moved his left hand to the back of his pants and felt the hilt of another knife he was carrying. As the large man's arm rose like a tower in the sky, Judeau flicked his arm forward and felt the knife leave his hand and travel into the air. Time stood still for a brief moment as the blade met emptiness and then tasted blood.
The knife had hit its target slightly below the chin of the large farmer. Although not very sharp at all, having been Judeau's emergency knife, the blade never the less sunk deep into the man's throat. The man lumbered stupidly around the room for a small amount of time, gurgling and choking on his own blood, the red liquid pouring down his body like it were a rushing river. He then fell to his knees as though they weighed a million pounds and his eyes widened to stare at the small boy who had just killed him. For what seemed like an eternity, their eyes met in that dark and chaotic room. Judeau saw the fear in the man's eyes at knowing that his death was imminent and coming quickly.
As the farmer fell and stopped breathing, a pool of crimson flowing and spreading around his corpse, Judeau just stood in the spot he had been in the entire time and looked down at the man he had just killed. "I murdered someone." Judeau said to himself quietly. "I just killed a man." He raised his hands to reveal that even though he never struck the man with his own arm, he still knew that the farmer's blood was still soaking into his palms. He clenched his fists tightly and then rushed over to where Daphne was still slowly gasping for breath on her blood-drenched bed. Not knowing quite what to do, the young street performer remembered something that was given to him not very long ago.
Pulling out the small pouch that Daphne had given to him as a present when they had first met, he took out a handful of the sparkling dust and then closed his eyes in prayer. "Please work, if there truly is someone out there that looks over others, please let this stuff help her." He opened his eyes slowly and then began to wipe the dust all over Daphne's prone body. She was soon covered in it, the fine powder soon seemingly vanishing as though it were never there. In order to stop her bleeding, Judeau pulled some cloth curtains from her window and wrapped her up in them, and then he fell before her and closed his eyes, not knowing what would happen in the morning, but not caring either. "I want to go far away, I want to be a star now."