China Doll part II


Angel of Death
The next morning arose before he did… It was late in the afternoon and all around him was garbage. He was sopping wet and confused. His bodies begin to shake again and rapidly discharge the poison from his body. It hurt; there was nothing in him to vomit up. He had not ate anything in two days… He felt so sick and alone still… He could not recall last night. It came almost as blur to him. Just the monster, his mother… the needle… Everything was so foggy…

He looked before him and he finally just realized he had vomited. It looked like coffee grounds to him, but in reality it was blood. He shrugged it off, his whole body hurt with pain, he was to weak to stand…it hurt to breath. He fell down to the floor again, unable to help himself and to tired to struggle he just passed out again….

His eyes slowly lifted open to the bright glare of the sun. It stung so badly that he could not see anything but intense glaring white. It was a few days later and he went to taste the cool Seattle air that was seeping through the open window. His lips where dry and cracked, already skin had begun to forum over them and seal them shut.

He could now taste his own bitter blood, he was sopping wet from rain and sweat. It was all a dazed confusion to him. He could only remember one thing, the monster. He pushed himself up only to realize that he had fallen in what seemed to be vomit. It was crusted on his face and held the foul stench rotting flesh.

“Cody…” he heard a voice it was a bit slurred but for the most part still somewhat sober. “Are you hungry” he tried to recall the voice but he was still a bit dazed.

“Mom?” he found his lips saying faster then his brain could think.

“ Yes, I am cooking pancakes, you want any? Been sleeping in that same spot for almost 3 days now.” Her voice finally recoiled itself into his mind. His body was still throbbing with pain and the thought of food sickened him more. Worse yet there was the smell of old dried blood and pancakes mixed with the foulness of stale beer.

He slowly walked to the sink… he was just thirsty. His whole body felt like it was drained of all its energy. He filled the glass seven or ten times and drank it as fast as he could, until he felt his stomach turning again. He begin to shake upon the step-stool.

“Well Cody, Fucking answer me.” His mother spoke this time in a much deeper and meaner voice. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked…

“Nnnooo…thing….” He was so confused and she spoke so fast he didn’t know how to answer her. He just felt light headed and wanted to pass out. It was like he could not get enough energy back.

“F-fuck the little fucking brat” it was a man’s voice, one he never heard or at least didn’t remember it. “What is this shit… all over his face…I am not living with some ffucking…” it was all gibberish after that. His ears could pick up no real words or anything that made sense.

He just felt his small body be slammed off the stepstool as a hand wrapped around him. Everything happened and such a blur to him. He was moving down the hallway… He tried to fight… What was happening to him, his mother voice he could hear it… but no real sound. He just knew she was talking, yelling maybe.

“Make him fucking clean up…” he garbled in almost understandable words.

His mother wrapped her slim around him. Shaking him almost lovely but still with an unrealistic terms. She held his face in her hands and stared at him, making him fix his eyes onto hers.

“Go and get ready for a bath…” she said calmly. He didn’t want to be wet, he wanted to be dry… just to lie down and sleep. He shook his head “no” and began to try and pull away.

“CODY!!!” his mother said grabbing his arm a little harder… “It no use, just let him be…” she said giving up as she walked back to the kitchen.

“I aren’t leaving with noo fucking brat…” more nonsense came to play into his ears. He didn’t understand why they wouldn’t let him be. Then he felt it a blow right across his face. The fist came so fast and powerful it knocked him into the air and he felt his feet fly right off from under him, he regain concessions of his surroundings only to be jerked up just as fast as he had been knocked down.

“You little son-of-a-bitch…get fucking in there.” His body was thrown threw the door and up into the shower curtain knocking it on the floor. His eyes tried to focus on something but he was even dizzier. Then came the cold stunning shock of the water.

“What the hell you fucking shivering for boy?” with that being said the water was turned at first it was a sweet warm comforting feeling…then it was so hot it burned. Each drop of water stung his skin like a million bees…

“Mommy….” He screamed in pain and tears…. “Mommy” This time he struggled to get out only to be knocked back into the tub. His face fell against the edge splitting open his lip and nose.

“Mommy…Please…NOOO! Mommy” he kept screaming over and over again. Finally after about 5 minutes she walked through the door.

“You breakfast is ready Hun… I will finish giving him a bath….” She said sweetly while glaring at her son. His eyes just fixed on her, he was in so much pain that now his body had grown numb to the boiling water spilling over him.

“You shouldn’t of made him mad…” her voice trailed off. He tired to listen but everything was going black again. He could hardly breathe and all he felt was anger. Rage that a boy his age should not know. He could feel his shirt coming off and his pants being undone.

“Relax.” He heard it again… the monsters voice… that what it told him. He could feel himself almost start to panic now. He wanted out of there right now. The monster was coming again. He struggled but his mom thin arms bound him there.

“Shh… Stay…this is what got you in trouble in the first place…” She said looking down at him.

“ With who?” he asked looking back up at her, realizing that this was his mother and not the monster.

“John… He Mommy’s new friend….” She said while washing his face. The soap burned across his face and he noticed that the rag was now red...his eyes just fixed on the blank look on his mother’s face. She seemed to blindly disregard the blood on his face. He hated that man; in fact he hated all of his mommy's friends.

“I hate your friends…” his mouth spit out the words violently almost as if he was vomiting them up like tiny razors. He had failed again. He was trying to be good and he didn’t mean to say it, he only wanted to think it. He could feel himself start to cry and then the sting of his mom’s hands across his face.

“Don’t say fucking shit like that…”