Another Elephant Man

I’m human. But they don’t see that. I feel, but they don’t sense that. I know, but they think me ignorant. Truly, under this skin I am no different than they are. I only wish, for one day, one hour, they could be in my shoes. Feel what I feel. See what I see. But they can’t. So what’s the use in wishing. I’m a freak, a horror, a sideshow. Put on display like an animal. But even a dog is not treated how I have been. The lucky dog gets a bone once and a while. He is master of himself, and can do what he pleases. I cannot. I am captive. I have known nothing beyond this carnival since childhood. I have not seen a friendly face since I last looked up at my mothers. I have not felt a kind hand since my father patted my head for the last time. I am alone now. My body set out openly for the cruel world to mock, to scorn, to deride. I am scoffed at for what I am. It was not my choice! I would not wish my fate on even the cruelest of men.

 

            I miss the sunlight I knew as a boy. The fresh air my lungs once inhaled. The grass my hands once felt. But it has all been replaced by iron bars, dirty straw and the stinking stench of garbage, left by careless strangers. The yellow light of a lantern casts its sickly glow above my head. I see my shadow, cast before me in grotesque silhouette. I turn away. Sometimes I scare even myself. Outside, behind the darkness, I hear them. The crowds, my public, my ‘adoring’ spectators. There is laughter. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. How I envy them. The noises near. It’s only a matter of time. I ready myself. For the pain, for the torment, for the screams I will hear them utter. Last time, a woman fainted.

 

            Then, I hear the all to familiar voice. The smooth, deep voice that captures the crowds with its lies. Louder and louder it grows. Ever nearer. I cringe as light floods my darkness. The sickly lantern lost in a myriad of light, cast by innumerable lamps.

            “Here he is, Ladies and Gentleman! The eighth wonder of the word! The most alarming sight, you have ever seen, locked in a cage for your own protection, against his terrible temper!” I blink my one eye slowly against the light. Faces blur before me. I feel their stares. I hear gasps. Several screams. It’s nothing new. It’s what they always do. This gawking, terrified crowd. Intoxicated on fearsome wonderment. Then I hear the keys jingle. The lock clinks. The door squeaks. I brace myself. The blow falls. My breath is snatched from my lungs. I hear them laugh, cackling like hyenas over wounded prey. “Scream you b*****d.” He hisses. I refuse. Tonight, I decide, I will not give them that satisfaction. I will be what I am. No feral, roaring beast. But a wounded, miserable human. Bereft of love, of comfort, of life. I sob. I feel the blood running down my hunched back. My mangled hand falls helplessly by my side. I am on my knees now. The blows come harder. I raise my head, painfully, slowly, searching the now clear faces for pity. But really, it’s not pity I want, it’s love. That’s what any being wants, is it not?

 

            I see the usual faces. The young, out for a thrill, to gain the bragging rights that they have seen me. The curious, who stand gawking. The skeptics, who scrutinize if my hideousness is made by nature or man. It’s nature, I assure them. I would never have allowed a man to do this to me. Then I glimpse her. I turn my head again. The blows continue to fall, but I don’t feel them. My body goes numb. She’s standing before me. Small, perfect, gentle. I feel a pang. She’s crying. But it’s not from fear, I can tell. She’s crying for me. Her face is calm. There is no fear in her eyes. She’s just a child. It’s usually the children who scream first. I marvel at what kind of parent could expose their child to such cruelty and pain, and think it entertainment. The crowd around her are laughing, staring. I wish I could thank her for this moment of peace she has given me.

           

            The crowd is dwindling now. They’ve seen what they want to see. And they’ve seen all they can take. No one wants to stare at a demon all day. But she remains. Standing like a small angel on the edge of hell, weeping for the demon before her. The last of the crowd clears off. I hear the tent flaps flop behind them. With a final blow, he spits on me and then climbs out of the cage. “You had better scream next time you b*****d. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Mark my words, you’ll regret it.” He disappears, not noticing that she still remains. I try and pick myself up. But open wounds make it hard to rise. I fall, and lie helpless, staring at the angel who has come to rescue me. She steps closer to the cage. I cower back, I don’ want to frighten her. She smiles through her tears.

 She reaches out her hand. Some instinct possesses me to uncurl my bloody, dirt crusted fingers. Her fingers brush my hand. They are soft. Soft like my mother’s hands were. She smiles even broader, though she is still sniffling. She the draws her hand back for a moment. I fear she will leave, and move closer to the iron bars. Her hand reappears and once again extends through the bars. Wordlessly she hands me something. A flower. A tiny, delicate snowdrop. It’s bud as white as her skin.

            “Thank…you.” I say. My voice is cracked and gravelly. I haven’t spoken for ages. She nods and the with a wave of her hand she disappears, as quickly as she came. My angel is gone. I clutch her gift to my chest. Carefully, I lay it beside my broken body, so I can see it while I fall asleep.

            If there are people like her, I think. In that world beyond my cage. If there is kindness. If there is love. If there are more angels like her. I will go out into that world one day. I will step into sunlight. I will breathe clear air. I will feel grass. Someday I’ll escape. I will leave this cage. This darkness. This pain. Someday to someone, I’ll be human.

 

Author's Note

Thank you for taking the time to read and review. Please forgive any spelling/grammatical errors.

Reviews

[Wendy Seames Garner]

Thank you for sharing your story. I have a five year old niece with is affliction - though she shows no signs of it yet. I'm praying her life is not as bleak as this fellows. Hoping more people show a little kindness, like your little girl with her snowdrop.

[Sylvia E. Lioness]

You said "I fear she will leave, and move closer to the iron bars." To make it more clear say something like "I fear she will leave, and I move closer to the iron bars." Or "I fear she will leave, but she moves closer to the iron bars." and also "She nods and the with a wave..." 'the' should be 'then.' It's a great story!