Born With Love, Living With Despair

The sky was a murky overcast grey and began to rumble in discomfort, the harbinger of a storm to come. This dark gloomy night set the scene for the beginning of Nox's first life.

From the open window of a quaint hospital ward came the ring of a baby's cries, a siren of alarm to the baby's parents.

"Oh, my sweet boy, please stop crying. Mommy is here. Mommy is here. Shush now little one, you need your sleep."

The whisper soothed the infant's wailing and soon he was in the comforting embrace of his dreams.

Heaving a sigh of relief, a pale-faced woman sat sprawled across the hospital bed, her bright smile seeming to light the room better than the shoddy lamp nearby. Her hair was a warm auburn-brown with matching eyes, giving her a welcoming demeanour, even after the labours of childbirth. Looking down at the baby's features though, it was immediately apparent that he didn't take after his mother. Concerningly though, he neither seemed to resemble his supposed father, blonde and blue-eyed in feature, who was pacing back and forth around the bed in distress, much to the mother's dismay.

"Please relax honey, these things happen sometimes. I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for everything".

The man, seeming to take little comfort at the words couldn't help but meekly pose a question as he began to get choked up and teary,

"You didn't....che....cheat on me did y.."

Before the sentence had even fully left his mouth; however, the mother shot him a stern glare. One that seemed, as a bullet, to pierce deep into his skull with scorn. A chilling shiver ran down his spine, a lump forming in his throat. The man couldn't help but look down in shame at his accusations. Sure, his wife could be scary at times, but wasn't it also true that she was the nicest, most caring woman he had ever met? Was there ever a moment before where he wasn't certain that they were madly in love?

Perhaps all the stress had finally taken its toll.

"I'm sorry. I know that you would never do that to me. Please forgive me." the man muttered lightly, his eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding his wife's gaze.

Other women might've been in a less forgiving mood at this scenario, but the mother was different. She understood his stresses, even if she had been the one to just birth a child. After all, did babies really just come out looking completely different to their parents? She would be lying if she said she wasn't worried.

Looking softly at the onyx-black hair and eyes of her new-born son, an ominous sense of foreboding grew in her chest. She couldn't help but pray silently,

"Please, let my son have a normal, safe life. My sweet little Nox", small tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other, more malicious plans in store for the boy.

- - - - -

3 years after Nox's birth, he was coddled tightly in the arms of his father, surrounded by several other family members: cousins, grandparents, and the like. At Nox's age, he could walk fine and need not be carried, but at this occasion, being carried was as much for his own comfort as it was his fathers. The atmosphere was austere and gloomy, accompanied by everyone's black attire. Circling around a large pit, everyone gathered and listened to the solemn speech of a cloaked man. Violent sobbing crashed through the calm of the man's speech, but he pressed on regardless.

Soon, a large wooden casket was lowered into the ground, and, with some final proceedings, the people began to disperse. Left was only Nox, his father, and a stroller with two infants who looked just like their late mother, a boy and a girl.

Indeed, while the first 3 years of Nox's life had been largely ordinary and uneventful, the birth of Nox's twin siblings had brought with it disaster. His mother suffered serious complications during an emergency c-section. The doctors had tried their best to salvage the situation, but all they were left with were two infants who would never know their mother.

Nox's father stood transfixed at the ground as he allowed the grave to be slowly filled with dirt until all that remained was some disturbed soil and a solitary headstone.

A lonely epitaph read,

[Here Lies Maria Lawson,

1993-2023,

"No matter how long or short, my life will have been well lived knowing I spent every second of it surrounded by those I love"]

Tears poured and poured with no end as Nox's father stood in silence.

Oblivious to what was really happening, was Nox. He understood that his mother was gone, but he didn't understand where. He only hoped that she would come back again. And soon.

This was the first death that Nox had to face, but it certainly wasn't the last.

- - - - -

It wasn't even a year later that Nox and his siblings were left orphans. Nox's father had spent every minute of his life since that day devoted to his children. Working arduously to support his small family and spending every free second trying to be there for them in place of two parents. However, a dark shadow loomed over his heart for every second of every day. The light of his life had left him alone. Every day he felt so alone in his grief, his children too young to understand his pain.

It wasn't long before the weight of the world came crashing down from atop his shoulders, and with it, the trio of children were left to bury another parent.

Nox, nearly 4 years old, still naive to the workings of the world, could only drown in confusion and anger. Why had his parents left him and his siblings alone? How could they? Did they not love him anymore? Rage bubbled ready to erupt at any moment within his heart. He seethed with anger; his every juvenile thought obsessed with figuring out the reason behind it all.

Quickly, custody of the children was passed to his father's brother, who was acquiescent to accept the trio. The man had no children of his own but had long made it clear he had intended to keep things that way. Nox was no more pleased at the situation than his uncle was. This man wasn't his father, who was he to tell him what to do? Who was he to order him around?

Reluctantly, he provided the most basic of care to Nox and his siblings, if not only to collect the child support payments. While his conduct was poor, at the beginning he at least maintained the façade of being a competent caregiver. However, things quickly regressed and soon, Nox was neglected at the best of times and verbally abused and treated like a slave at the worst.

A little over half a year passed in his uncle's 'care' as Nox kept a tight lid on his raging emotions for the sake of his siblings. However, the force of a volcano cannot simply be contained because you wish it so, and any attempt to do so will only inevitably lead to a more violent eruption. And indeed, this was true in Nox's case as he swiftly reached breaking point.

His uncle had just demanded that he grab him a drink from the kitchen. Nox's uncle had come to find that having children had certain perks, like not needing to leave the comfort of his sofa to have a nice cold beer.

Malice flashed through Nox's eyes as he determinedly marched towards the kitchen, taking a bottle from the fridge. Approaching his uncle calmly, the man didn't even seem to register his presence, his eyes glued to the rugby match on the television. Not to mention, this wasn't the man's first drink but rather one of several, his eyes glossed in a drunk sheen. Closing the distance one step at a time, Nox was eventually within his short arms reach of his uncle. Even this close, his uncle completely blanked his existence.

With a surge of courage, Nox gathered all the strength his weak body could raise and struck with the bottle towards the unsuspecting man's temple. His uncle finally managed to react when he saw something hurtling towards him from his peripheral vision, but by that point, he was too late.

*SMASH**THUD*

Nox's uncle fell to the ground, cradling his head. Blood spewed from lacerations on his temple, blanketing his hands in a sinister red sheen. Shards of glass and beer lay strewn across the floor.

Nox was still somewhat in disbelief at what he had done. He had actually done it. He had replayed this scene over and over in his head, day after day. And it felt so satisfying. So satisfying to see this pig get what he deserved.

Grunting and huffing, the man eventually rose from the ground, towering over Nox. His eyes gleamed with the fury of a demon, fixed on the little rat that dared to strike him.

"After everything I've done for you boy, you dare act like this! You dare hit me! Just you wait!" the man's blood boiled, "I'll make you wish you were dead! Just like that whore of a mother of yours!"

Nox's mind went beyond anger at this comment. Beyond anger, and into a deep coldness, so suffocating that the room seemed to go completely dark for a moment.

Nox's uncle hesitated for a moment. What was this feeling? It felt like...death? Was he actually scared that this little pest might kill him? This wet behind the ears kid?

Shaking his head and steeling his resolve, he launched himself towards Nox. Nox might've gotten a lucky shot, but he, a 4-and-a-half-year-old child, was against a fully grown adult. He stood no chance.

The blood-curdling sound of fists clashing with flesh and bone rang throughout the night. The racket had awoken Nox's siblings upstairs who wailed uncontrollably. And yet, from Nox, not a peep was heard. He neither screamed nor shouted. His mind was doused in a frosty coldness he had never felt before. Each punch with no reaction only angered his uncle more and fuelled more strikes, only letting the boy off when he was an inch from death.

Nox made no sound for his mind was icily calm, focussed on one idea. By whatever means necessary, he would get rid of this man. For good.

Nox never did get the chance to act though, for only a week later, his uncle suffered an abrupt heart attack at home. Nox watched as the man writhed in agony on the floor, clinging to life. He had come to understand a little about death by now and knew what awaited his torturer. Nox loomed over the man, watching the life slip from his eyes.

His last words,

"I'll wait for you in hell, you little rat."

- - - - -

Shortly after their uncles' death, the trio were separated. Child services had gotten involved when they discovered how the children were being treated. Nox's grandparents had hoped to enjoy a peaceful retirement, away from the turmoil of children. However, given the state of things and the appalling behaviour of their son, they eventually conceded to taking in the twins. Despite that, they refused to adopt Nox.

The police had interviewed him about the wounds on his uncle after his death. Given Nox's age, they had tried to be kind and polite to not scare the boy, but they didn't expect him to simply give them a cold stare. He admitted readily to attacking his uncle although given the circumstances, the police found no issue with how he'd acted. All that came of the investigation was that Nox's uncle likely got what he deserved, and that this little boy was unnerving to say the least.

Word had reached his grandparents and they vehemently refused to take the boy. In the end Nox was forced into the foster care system.

He had come into this world surrounded by loving family and yet, now, at the tender age of almost 5 years old, he was left with no-one.

He was completely alone.