That was the beginning of my torture. Every time something goes wrong at the butcher shop, it's always my fault, and Uncle Hanes makes sure to give me a beating. Yesterday was one of those days.
The butcher shop smelled of blood, as always: that metallic scent with a bitter hint of guts or congealed blood on the verge of rotting. Flies buzzed around the hooks, dancing among the hanging beef carcasses that dripped slow drops onto the cracked floor. Old Luck was skinning a deer while I arranged the clean utensils.
I'd finished washing all the tools we'd used during the day. The sun had already set, so it would soon be time to close. We were just waiting for one last order. As soon as old Luck finished preparing the deer, we'd deliver it, and I could finally go home.
Tomorrow is my mother's birthday, and I managed to gather some money to buy meat. I'd already put it in my bag and was so excited to get home. Suddenly, as I smiled, Uncle Hanes's voice boomed from behind the door as he entered, kicking it open.
"Think you're funny, huh?" His voice echoed with that harsh tone of someone who wasn't looking for answers, just excuses to vent his anger.
I didn't reply. Why bother? The bastard was already charged up, and it was all because of that knife box. A while ago, it slipped from my hands because I was trying to finish quickly to leave early for my mother's birthday. One knife fell and just chipped at the tip, nothing more. A quick sharpening would have been enough to fix it. I left it in the box; I was going to sharpen it tomorrow since I still had a lot to do before I could leave, but that was enough. In his head, that was treason, disobedience… a lack of respect towards him, and he couldn't tolerate the slightest disrespect.
The first blow was a punch to the face. The sound of my cheekbone cracking resonated through my entire being, leaving me almost unconscious. My body fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes. With just that one punch, my soul almost escaped my body; I felt as if I were underwater.
"That cost me money, you bastard!" he yelled in a fit of rage.
A kick to the ribs followed, another to the stomach. Kicks rained down on me like a storm. My body just convulsed, but my mind was so confused I couldn't feel anything. I spat something thick. Blood, bile, food… The kicks made me vomit everything inside me. I'm sure I hadn't eaten meat in a long time, but in that disgusting liquid, there were fragments of something. Maybe they were my organs being destroyed.
"It wasn't intentional…" I whispered with the little strength I had left, a pitiful plea along with my last hope. It's a shame it fell on deaf ears. Hanes didn't listen. He never does. He just hits me because he can; there's nothing I can do. The difference between us is immense. My weakness is my only sin, and this is my punishment.
The bastard wasn't done with me yet. He lifted me from the floor with force, throwing me against the wall as if I were a piece of dead beef. The impact knocked the little air I had left out of me. Something broke in my back. I didn't scream, not out of bravery… I simply had no voice left. The lack of air burned my lungs from the inside, but something prevented my lungs from filling with air. My body's desperation filled my mind. My eyes began to shed even more tears of desperation. My face was completely red, and all the veins in my face seemed on the verge of bursting.
"I pay you, I give you the scraps from my butcher shop! And this is how you repay me!" he spat, his eyes bloodshot with fury.
His words cut deeper than the blows, reminding me that this was all I could get in this damn clan: scraps. After all, we're treated like dogs, like trash. We're a simple act of charity for them.
Mom… No, don't think about that. Not now, I can't beg, I have to be strong for her.
The knife he held fell to the floor with a clang. Not out of compassion. He just needed both hands to continue destroying me. I dragged myself a little, my survival instinct forcing me to flee, but he reached me again.
One more kick. Something inside me snapped. I lay still.
Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. Existing hurt. My whole body screamed for it to stop, but the bastard kept hitting me until he stopped, panting. You damn pig, if you had more stamina, this would surely be my last moment alive.
The cold of the floor embraced me like an old friend. I wanted to stay there. Just that. Just stay.
I saw the ceiling lights tremble. Like broken stars. Blurry. Distant. My vision was slowly disappearing. Darkness slowly enveloped me like a mother cradling her child, seeking to protect him. That warm embrace made me wonder:
What if I don't get up again?
What if I stop trying?
What if I just die?
I felt my heart beat slowly. It was like the sound of a drum that seemed to grow fainter and fainter. Little by little, it was fading.
Hanes's footsteps receded. He left, huffing. The door closed. The creak sounded like heavenly forgiveness. He didn't come back. At least for now, it was over.
Silence filled the room.
And there, lying on the butcher shop floor, stinking of old meat and dried blood, I realized I didn't want to go on. For the first time, I wanted to be selfish and end this once and for all.
"If there's anything up there, out there… whatever… take me. Please. I don't want this. I don't deserve this. You kill me if he doesn't."
A tear rolled down my face. Not from pain. Not from fear. But from that shit that still remains within me…
that damned hope that refuses to die. My mother's face came back to me, dragging all these thoughts away. I remembered why I still resist. I crawled to try and get up when I heard a voice.
"I'll take you home, kid, be strong." Old Luck picked me up, and my mind went dark once more.