20 A Glimpse Of The Past (1)

I didn't get a wink of sleep that night. But it was not like I wanted to or need to.

Instead, I just cradled Willow in my arms and watched peacefully as she slept up against my chest.

Her tiny hands clung tightly to my chest. The relaxing breathing she consistently let out was warming. Her adorable face was buried in my shoulder. And her soft silky hair that I played with all night kept me occupied.

This brought on a lot of memories that I thought I once forgot… or rather hid away.

***

My earliest memory is being held by my mother. I can't remember her face or any of our surroundings. However, I can remember the warmth and safety I felt that day.

It was one of the more fond memories I have of my family.

There's a big gap between the memories that I have since the next one that I can remember is years later.

My older sister Khloe and I were playing at the time, we were probably only five and seven. Yet this specific memory sticks out due to it being the start of the end.

We were playing a game of tag indoors and I was it. So when I was chasing after her we were running all throughout the house. Once we left the kitchen and made our way into the living room my sister bumped a table and something fell off and broke.

I don't even remember what it is proving how valueless it was.

But nonetheless, mother was furious and she demanded to know who's fault it was.

I being a younger kid was scared to get in trouble but apparently so was my sister because she blamed it on me.

I remember the words she used precisely to this day.

"It was Arthur's fault, he was running around the house and I was trying to catch him and stop him. I warned him that he might break something but he ignored me and kept running. Which is then when he bumped into the table and caused it to fall over."

After that, I don't remember anything other than spending the next two days staring at a wall.

I remember that I was so bored that I managed to count to one thousand and I was so proud of myself because after that I couldn't count any higher.

So I kept doing that over and over I eventually lost track of how many times I counted to one thousand but I just kept counting and counting nonstop.

That was until a fly landed on the wall.

I watched that fly crawl all around, up and down, left and right. I watched as it flew and continuously banged its head on the wall.

That bug was my only source of entertainment and I loved it. I felt trapped like the fly unable to break through the wall to the outside world.

But then when mother came to give me dinner and saw the fly up against the wall she squished it with her shoe.

I watched horrified as the bug that I considered my friend be killed in front of me.

For the remainder of my time spent I just stared emotionless at the guts and remains of the fly that was plastered to the wall.

That was my first true experience with death.

Many more incidents happened between my sister and me where she would blame her wrongs on me.

It came to a point where it was normal for me to just get it trouble and if anything were to go wrong it would be my fault.

My parents began to despise me and my sister continued to find ways to use me to make her out to be a perfect child.

At the time I didn't truly understand how bad it had gotten until one specific day.

I woke up on my twelfth birthday praying that I wouldn't get in any trouble and be able to have a fun day.

When I went downstairs in the morning my father was at the table drinking coffee while my mother was talking with my sister and handed Khloe her lunch.

"Good morning!" I said.

And there was no response.

Father minded his own business as he continued to drink before getting up and leaving to go to work.

Khloe ignored me as she passed by me and left for school.

"Morning mom, did you make my lunch?" I asked.

"Why would I do that?" This was the only thing she responded with.

That was the moment I honestly and fully realized that I was an outcast in my own family.

I spent my twelfth birthday alone without a cake or any celebrations in my room.

I remember that I ended up crying myself to sleep that night.

After that day things got so much worse.

Things that couldn't have even possibly been my fault were blamed on me.

The food was burning, it was my fault for not telling anyone, even if I wasn't home.

A door was making sounds and need oil, it was my fault because I was now the man of the house while my father was at work, even though I was never taught how to fix it.

My sister failed a test, it was my fault for not helping her study, even though she never asked or wouldn't want my help in the first place.

Blame after blame and punishment after punishment I received it all and bottled it up.

That was until an ordinary that was just like any other.

The day that the world changed.

The day the gods reviled themselves to mankind.

I remember I was walking to school, mother and father wouldn't buy me a bike like my sister so I was always late.

But it's not like the teachers cared, my sister manipulated them and they all hated me anyways. They probably expected me to just not show up, so if I arrived late no one batted an eye.

I was taking my time getting to school that morning and watching the news on my phone which I had saved up and bought with my own money.

When an announcement of breaking news came on saying that believers in gods were getting blessed for their devotion and receiving powers.