The Battle-Axe

Cardew finds out who his mother really is.

On the other side of the hedges, it was very foggy and arid. From what I was able to see, it was gray and bleak. No plants or animals were in sight. I still walked on, trying to see if I could find anything. Nothing, absolutely nothing was in sight. I felt something watching me, so I stopped, and listened. I heard nothing, and the fog would not allow me to see anything. Suddenly, I felt something strike my cheek, and it knocked me to the cold, hard ground. My bare knees scraped against the concrete-like dirt, my cheek dripping with blood. I scrambled to my feet, but once I was up, another hit came, this time my nose. I clutched it as it bled, and tried to keep from screaming. If I screamed, mother would know I disobeyed her. I covered my head with my arms, and ran until I felt myself flying through the hedges, back into the beautiful garden.

I bent over, my hands gripping my knees. My nose and cheek had stopped bleeding, and my nose had stopped hurting. I was panting, trying to catch my breath. When I looked up, mother was looming over me, her eyes as cold as ice, and her glare was scaring me. She grabbed me by the back of my collar, and dragged me inside, down to a wooden door below the house. She called it “the classroom”, and when she opened the door, I was horrified at what I had seen. On the left wall, were several whips and straps. Some had glass shards wedged in the fibers, and some had knots tied all along the strand of the whip. In the middle of the room, was a metal table. Next to the table, near the back of the room but clearly able to be seen,  was a cart with different knives and syringes. I was surprised she would have brought me down here, because this looked more like a torture room than a classroom.

I started to pant, and swallowed hard. I was so stunned, I couldn’t speak, or resist as she took me by my arm, hauling me over to the table. She lied me down on my back, strapping my arms and legs down to the table with strips of leather. I looked like a giant X, my arms and legs slightly spread. I finally asked what she was doing.

“Oh, Cardew. As my child, you must learn to be a good boy, like my Clement. This is to ensure that will happen.” She went to the other side of the room, and took out a strange electronic device. I turned to my left, near the door. Standing there was Clement, a sorrowful look in his eyes. His red eyes, covered by the glasses, looked straight into mine, and I could tell he was trying to hold back tears. When mother came back, she switched the machine on, and took out two circular metal pads. She went over to the side my head was on, and put the pads close to my head. I could feel the static electricity coming from the pads, and whimpered. She slammed the pads down on my skull, and a jolt of electricity flowed through me. I screamed, as the pain intensified. As soon as it had happened, it stopped, and I gasped for air. Before I could take a breath, however, another jolt flew through me, and I was forced to scream again. And again. And again…

After what seemed like hours of shock, I was sent up to my room, with Clement to escort me. I stayed away from him as much as I could, in case he would try to torture me like she did. When we arrived at my room, I checked in the mirror, and saw that some parts of my hair had been burnt off. I gasped, and felt the bald spots. I then felt a comb go over my head, covering the spots. Clement was behind me, combing my hair. At first, I wanted to push him away in fear, but…I loved this, this touch. It was gentle, and loving. When I opened my eyes, my hair looked as if it was never burned off. Clement then picked me up, and set me down in bed. He tucked me in, and pet my hair, before I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I remembered what had happened the previous day. I sat up in bed, and thought to myself of the recent happenings. Apparently, mother was no “mother” at all. She was just a psychopath who enjoys hurting children. I then decided to not call her “mother” anymore. From then on, I referred to her as the “battle-axe”. I knew I had to escape. I looked over at the clock next to my bed, and saw it was 3:00a.m. I had woken up before anyone else. ‘If I am to escape, I might as well do it now,’ I thought. I tried the door adjacent to my bed, but it was locked tight. I also tried to open the windows, but they were just about nailed down. I started to worry, as horrible thoughts swirled around my mind. What if they had locked me in and I would die from thirst or starvation? I then thought about breaking the windows, which I had tried with my small fists. I was never really strong, so I was not able to break them. The banging on the windows woke somebody, however, as I heard the lock turn, and Clement entered. I gulped, and backed away. As he stood there in silence, I heard a crackling noise coming from the window. It was breaking. After several cracks were in the window, angry footsteps stomped down the hall, and the battle-axe burst in.

“What is going on in here!?” She inquired rather loudly. When she saw the broken window, I immediately panicked. She would know I tried to escape, and I did not want another session with that machine. My heart pounded as she asked which one of us broke the machine, looking straight at me. I figured she already knew I was guilty. Clement then raised a hand, and pointed…at himself.