Chapter 1: From Birth

The first day in a new life.

My eyes felt heavy under their own weight, almost as if glued together. Surrounding me was this strange feeling of liquids. It felt as if I was inside a pool of water in the darkest of nights with the moon long gone and unwelcoming. I can’t breath from my nose and it’s too dark to see which way is up… and yet I feel fine. A steady pulse vibrates around, like a steady beat and all too much like one from a heart. It feels comforting with its constant and quick vibrations, never missing its rhythm. After some time the pool begins to drain. My body is soon dragged out from this strange space and light finally pierces my eye lids.

When my eyes open, the first thing that catches my attention is the only source of light in the room. No longer am I surrounded by what felt like a strange place, and it is no longer as dark. When I see the light, almost as if blinding me, as dim as it is, I felt a sense of security as the darkness no longer overwhelmed me. The light is nonetheless blurry and I struggled to focus on the source of this light that is no more than a few feet away. This same light reflected and distorted on a shape that I struggle to make out but I believe it to be a human. A woman, actually, and a small droplet of sweat shines reflecting the light in this room while it falls to my cheek. She is sweating moderately and holding me in her arms as she lay on the bed.

“It’s a boy,” she said, looking straight into my eyes. Another person, beside the bed, she hums shortly in agreement.The two then looked to each other but the room is too dark for me to see their expressions and nothing but silence fills the immediate area. On second glance, I looked to my hands and feet and they were the size of a baby, an infant to be exact. I moved my tongue around my mouth and felt that I was toothless.

Am I dreaming?

The two women continue to speak to each other. The curiosity of being somewhere unfamiliar and inside a body I could not call my own pays me no mind to their exchanging words. I pinched my skin with as much force as I could in this body, even then, the pain is practically nonexistent"but it is there. Or do I merely believe that the pain is there because of this impossible scenario, a dream. Some dreams are realistic enough to trick the source to believe in it as well. I must be dreaming then. That is my conclusion. I’ve grown too conscious of my surroundings… I should wake up soon.

… But it doesn’t end.

In a moment a cheek is placed near mines and both our skins are tenderly rubbed together, affectionately transferring the feeling of being loved from a mother to her child. With every touch transferred, with every detail being processed in my mind… it becomes clearer. This is not a dream, or at least I’m beginning to believe in it more and more. With all the signs that this is not my imagination, and not a dream, I still cling on with disbelief.

I flung my small arms and grabbed her cheek with whatever strength I have, tightening my grip on her soft wet skin. Again, my efforts proved meaningless. This illusion does not come and go, it stays. Her face is close enough for me to make out her details among this strange scene. Dark red hair as if from a rose that wilt after being left to dry for days, almost seemingly purple by just adding a hint of blue but still with a dab of uncertainty. Pale skin, but beautiful in many aspects. She is young, around her mid-twenties and with a life force that will guide her well for the coming decades. I believe that.

“Have you considered his name,” asked the other woman in this dark room, “Lady Glinn?” She’s too far, albeit for the fact that the second woman is no more than three feet away, I still cannot see her clearly and my eyes again fail to adjust. I would need to get closer, but that isn’t of importance right now.

“Liel,” said the one holding me warmly in her arms, giving me a name that I must wholeheartedly refuse. This is the most realistic dream I’ve ever had. The developing situation forces a laugh out of me that such a thing would occur before my very eyes. It isn’t possible. I’ve never once wanted to be held like a baby strongly enough to be dreaming of it. It’s ridiculous.

“Ah"I think he’s happy with the name. His giggling is so cute, my lady,” said the other woman. Did I die? Does this mean that reincarnation is the result of fulfilling the last part of life? I consider that option. I should not deny this situation. Not moments ago I was walking down the street on my away to the convenience store. What happened after that? There’s no recollection of it, I merely blinked and ended up here. In the meantime, I’m handed off to the other woman, the one standing.

My pulse beats quicker. As an infant, a heart beats faster depending on how small a living thing is, but it isn’t the cause for mine. I have a sister, you see, she expects me home in no more than ten minutes. The fact that I took three minutes getting to my destination and not more than five minutes now have passed where I am now. I’m worried. My sister is only twelve years old, and I left the home as the day was beginning to grow dark. In just a few minutes she believes that I will be at the front door.I cry out words that fail to make understood sounds. I struggle to move in all directions and try with all my might to leave this place and find my way back home. I refuse to believe this is real.

“He’s not happy to leave his mother’s side,” said the the other woman, now holding me. The rustling sound of cloth is heard. The same cloth is placed to cover me and I try again to wiggle my way out from this woman’s strong but gentle hold. The woman laying on the bed laughs at the scene that is playing before her and I can’t help but believe she isn’t the cause for this misfortune. If that it is the case, then I can’t get mad at her, or either of them. They simply don’t know. Just like me… probably.

A week passes.

“One moment,” said Alice. She walks to the door and opens it for the guest that had waited outside my room. Both make their way back to me as I can tell by the sound of their footsteps, and I am correct to believe so once their faces pop from above me as I lay down on the soft sheets and pillows of the cradle I lay on. Alice is the second person I was unable to see on my first day here, and she appears to be the maid of this home. The ‘guest’ is my mother.

My ‘mother,’ whom I will now refer to her by name, Glinn, really is my mother.. but she really isn’t. She is but she isn’t. I never thought I would said that. Indeed, I would have thought it impossible since she is not more than a year or two older than I am, and so is Alice. Our humble maid takes her job seriously. Even as my mother is away most of the time, she does everything from dusting the book shelves, airing out the carpet and really just maintaining anything that needs attention, which includes myself. She has black hair, and it doesn’t shine under any light, which is strange. My only guess is that there is that kind of shampoo somewhere that could only be found in a woman’s magazine.

Since the first day all I have been able to do is collect information. As much as possible, carefully trying to ascertain my location, and planning my escape when I’m more capable.

I can’t help but wonder"who has the power to do this to me? Why? Whoever you are, by accident or with intent to place me here… take me back. Please. Alice moves her hand toward my cheek and gently holds it in place with her thumb making its way to my left eye and removes the salty water that are shed for the moment. I cried for the past few days. I don’t think I will stop soon either.

I keep thinking of every possibility that my little sister must be okay, despite me being gone away. I promised her I would never leave her, and to her I already broke that promise just one day after her birthday. Did she call the police? I have no relatives, and no one to come by to check up on her. The day I was gone from her life was a Sunday, and the Monday following is a school day. She walks to class every weekday since it’s very close, so someone there should notice… something… soon. That’s all I can do… hope.

My saliva drips to my chin and is wiped and collected as if it were nectar that need be cherished, but that part is all in my head. Alice wipes off the secretion, a fluid I am incapable of stopping from seeping out of my mouth as it becomes more abundant. I can’t walk, I can’t talk, and I can barely see with my own eyes. By all means, I’m an infant. There are no signs that they believe differently either.

The walls, the ceiling, and even the floor are made from stone. Strange, but not unlikely for people with exotic tastes. This room is also quite large. The one source of light, now that it’s around noon, is the window. It’s always nice and bright in this room at noon. A single window in this large room, but a window also large and fitting for such a room. The curtains are almost certainty made of silk, as should the sheets of my own bed be the same. The first thing on my list is find out my location. The sooner I leave, the sooner I can return home, to where my sister is. By the looks of it, I can’t make out where this place is located. My only guess is that, while they can also speak English, nothing really sticks out as being near where I live. I could be on the opposite side of the world, knowing the language they speak does not help me. The window itself only lends me a blurry view of the sky. No trees, no grass, not even the sound of running water like a river. The wind is strong, however, and it enters the room giving off this gently breeze.

I look up a the ceiling and wonder why I am left with nothing of my former self but my memories. I have no teeth to make the sounds of my lips moving and speaking the words ‘hello,’ even then I should wait. Act while I am here to be a child of this house that I am in their eyes. Seven numbers and an area code, is what really matters. Wait until I can speak, and wait until I am older. Perhaps I call my sister over the phone and tell her that… tell her… that… tell her what? In tone and pitch that don’t belong to me, and tell her that I am her brother. I will sound like a child, and she will likely be an adult by then. She might not even live in the same place anymore. She might even hate me. If we meet, will she hear me out as I tell her of this strange journey. Could I convince her to believe that we were once related? These are the things I can’t help but wonder in these short moments.I toss and turn the whole day thinking about ‘what if’ scenarios, about things that won’t be accessible to me even in the next few years.

“Still not asleep, I see,” said Alice. It is dark out and Glinn is long gone. Alice finished her daily tasks and has been by my side ever since. Just like an infant, I grow tired between intervals, today, however, I have made it past falling in deep slumber hours after the sun has set. My eyes definitely tire as I can only stay awake for a few hours at a time, but again, this is a first. It is for the fact that I have accepted my situation that I cannot sleep. I have accepted this situation, but that doesn’t mean I like it. It’s conflict fighting within myself to adjust to. Soon after, I have come to terms with it and fall fast asleep with the candle having been extinguished minutes before I lose myself in deep sleep.

My sister stands looking at the front door, just a few feet away. She looks at the clock pointing half past three, probably having come from school just a while ago. She waits by the door and nothing happens. She walks steadily towards it, finally. Proceeds to open it slowly and lets the natural light force its way into the house. She looks at the time again and it’s already four o’clock. Again, she looks at the time and it’s already five o’clock. She looks around with just her eyes towards the lamp post that lit up a moment ago far off into the streets. It’s dark out now. She grabs hold of the door knob tightly and slams it shut with all her strength waking me in the process.

It was a just dream. I feel my heart beat quicker and try to calm it down that much sooner. I hadn’t noticed but Alice has me in her arms swaying back and forth. She must have kept her eyes on me while I was dreaming. She’s genuinely kind. I appreciate what she’s doing, even if it is her job. Once again I fall asleep. When I wake up, it’s morning, Alice sits by the cradle as she always does since the very first day. Glinn did, too, but only for the first day. I wouldn’t care about questioning why only once, since she is technically my ‘mother,’ but it’s not like I’m obligated to care. No offence to her, but we are mentally the same age. One person is indeed enough to care for my necessities as I can’t do them myself, not for a long while anyway.

Alice makes it a routine to wash me early in the morning with just towels. Soft towels, wet and dry. She carefully cleans every part with gentle hands as one would toward an infant. One thing that can help me speed up the process of getting home is by becoming independent, or at least capable of being left alone. I would have grabbed the towel and proceeded with cleaning myself, showing that I can do so without help. However, that would prove much too soon. I’m only a week old after all.

“Now lift your other leg,” she said. There is no expectation on her part for my reaction, that is, beyond the weird look I give her for talking to a baby. Of course, she understand this and simply lifts my little leg herself. It wouldn’t be a strange sight at all from a mother to her child, but it’s the fact that Alice gives me verbal instructions every time that led me to give her such a strange look. I’m not married, nor am I a woman, so I wouldn’t know if mothers are like this. Probably, they are. To each his own.

The next routine on her list is to breastfeed me. She is also a wet nurse, a maid, and my caregiver, or is she my nanny? It was on the first day she fed her n****e to my mouth, following the example after Glinn. It was a huge shock, but it’s not like I didn’t see it coming. I was expecting something like that, but it was something I didn’t want to have become a reality. Have they never heard of using formulas? We are around same age, Alice and I, so I am not comfortable in these instances. In this case I kept refusing her but she tends to also be a forceful nanny. I can’t help that I have such weak limbs. Fighting and pushing her off again without any tangible results. She would just force it back in with little resistance on my part. At some point I’ll feel an obligation to marry her. Alice is very pretty in fact, so I wouldn’t be so opposed to a ceremony. Her hair is brown with her eyes are following the pattern. Dark brown and beautiful to look at. She uses no make up, and so all her small features and details are for me to see. But I know it’s not right to take advantage in these situations, but there really is nothing I can do. She takes her job seriously. She would feed me her n****e to fall me to sleep. It doesn’t work, but she’ll keep it in there for as long as my eyes are open. It’s her way of telling me it’s bed time.

She would clean the room while in the meantime I would just lay in my cradle, again, pretending to be asleep, pretending that her milk was effective. From morning, to noon, and night. I’ve never left the room, and Alice only gives me her full attention when she is done cleaning, which doesn’t take her long to finish. She would give me a toy to play with, differently every given day. These are just toys for babies after all. Basic rattles and blocks. Toys all made sure to be large and not too small to fit in my mouth for safety. I’ll play with them for show and they only serve as a reminder that my days will continue on like this for a good long time. If I had a book, I’d most certainly read it. I would ask for one, but again, I’m too young to speak as my teeth have yet to grown in.

Normal days like these were becoming common… and they feel like they would go on forever.

End

Author's Note

You can read more chapters at Litsnovel.com
Thank you for reading.