ODE TO SLEEP

「003. disfigured」

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      DINNER was always at 7:30, every night. By then, everybody was back from their daily tasks and their missions. They'd had time to clean up, or just stumble right into the dining hall, starving and exhausted. Maddox would enter, everyone would wait for him to sit down, then we'd all begin to eat.

I picked through the peas on my plate, watching them roll around on the ceramic surface. I wasn't a very picky eater, but tonight I just wasn't hungry. Nothing looked appetizing, and my stomach was constantly churning. I knew it was anxiety from the way my leg was restlessly bouncing under the table, and how I wasn't able to keep still. The fork in my hand was shaking.

"You alright, kid?"

I looked across the table at the blonde man who sat there. Leo was his name. He was staring at me with a quirked brow, chewing on a piece of steak with a can of soda in his hand. Maddox glanced at me.

I nodded in response.

"You're awfully antsy," Maddox said, lowering his fork down to his plate. "Something on your mind."

I shook my head.

"Anxious?"

I nodded.

"What for?" Leo asked.

I shook my head. I didn't know. I just had a bad feeling, but I couldn't voice it to them. My throat was starting to close up again.

"You son of a bitch!"

I jumped when I heard something slam down onto the table, causing everything on the surface to rattle. Loud voices followed suit as two men rose up and started arguing loudly across the stable. Fingers were shoved into chests, their voices overtaking the ones trying to calm them. Then, it was a fight.

I watched the first man grab the second by the back of the neck and slam his head down onto the table. Maddox got up and shouted at them to stop. I felt Leo's gaze on me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the blood that dripped down the second man's head.

"You son of a bitch!"

A cry filled the air. I watched, trembling on the wooden floor. Blood splattered onto the ground, and the woman in front of me fell onto the floor. Her back was facing me, but I could see all the bruises and cuts that tainted her skin. She got onto her feet.

"Get away from him," She growled.

"Get out of my way," He snapped.

"You expect me to stand by and let you hurt my son?" She asked, anger seeping into her voice.

I didn't understand. She was hurting. Bleeding and bruised. Why was she antagonizing him? Why couldn't she just move and let me take it? Why did she keep defending me over and over again?

He shoved her back, but she stood her ground and shoved him back. She stepped forward, and I heard a hiss fill the air. I watched the large python slither from the shadows and crawl to her, sliding over her shoulder, and hissing again at the man. He glared but stepped back.

After a minute, he stormed out of the room. The snake disappeared and she immediately turned to me. I could see the blood trickling down the side of her head, but she ignored it as she knelt in front of me, cupping my face in her hands.

"Are you alright, baby?"

I could feel my chest rising and falling quickly, my eyes wide. I couldn't catch my breath. The fork in my hands clattered onto the plate, making Maddox look down at me. I knew he had that look on his face, I didn't even have to see it. My vision started to blur and my head was hurting.

"M-Mama?"

The whisper left my lips before I could realize it.

"Isaiah?" Maddox had stood up and moved to me, grabbing my shoulders. "'Saiah? Hey!"

I didn't realize that I was screaming until he was grabbing me from the chair and lifted me up. I unconsciously struggled against him, the image of my mother still lingering in the air. I reached out to her, screaming for the man to leave her alone.

"Isaiah!" He all but threw me down, grabbing me by my face. "Isaiah, snap out of it!"

Isaiah? Who was Isaiah? Where was my mom? What was that person handing him? A pill? No, stop! Why was he shoving it in my mouth?! I can't move his hand! Mom! Mom, where are you?!

I felt drowsy. The image of the man was starting to fade, disappearing into the air. Maddox was in front of me, cupping my face in his hands, hushing me softly. I could see his lips moving, but I didn't know what he was saying.

She was there too, standing over him, gazing at me with soft eyes. She reached forward, but before her fingers could brush along my skin, she faded. Everything went dark.

That was one of the better attacks. As I got older, they got worse. It would take multiple people to calm me, hold me down to inject something into my neck. Maddox started to hover around me, making sure that I took all seven pills when I was supposed to. By the time I was 15, everyone was used to me and my outbursts.

Then, everything changed.

I looked at the porcelain mask in his hands. The intricate blue painting matched the color of my room and brought me a sense of conversancy. There was something about it that reminded me of...home. Even though I didn't remember it.

"Take it, son," Maddox said. "Maybe this can help you figure out who you really are."

It was cold, making me tense up when I put it over my face. After I did, Maddox gave me my first mission.

It was with Leo, but I never expected it to be like this. My trembling gaze was focused on the children huddled in the corner of the room. They were crying, holding each other, burying their faces into the chest of their older sister. Her eyes were focused on the body of her father that lay at my feet. She watched the blood pool under my boots, his essence rolling off the edge of my blade.

I remember Leo screaming at me after I finished throwing up a few blocks away. He was yelling that I was slowing us down, that I was going to get us caught, and that I was a wimp. I was weak.

I don't know why that made me so angry. I don't know why I lashed out at him. I don't know why those words had such an effect on me. When Maddox asked me what happened, I just told him that I didn't know.

I wasn't weak. I was sick. Just like she was. She wasn't weak. She was sick. He made her sick. She cried like I did. She shook like I did. She flinched away from him like I did. He made me this way.

I remembered his face clearly one night. I stared at the picture I'd pinned over my desk, my eyes burning the image into my head. I never wanted to forget it. I'd find him. I'd kill him. I hated that when I looked in the mirror, I looked almost exactly like him. It made me sick. I wanted to throw up.

"Isaiah, stop!"

I don't know why Maddox had come in when he did. He tackled me onto the floor, forcing the piece of glass from my hand. He kept shouting for someone to get in here and help him as he scrambled around the bathroom trying to find a towel to hold against my face. The floor was soaked with my blood at this point, and I never struggled against him once. The shards of the mirror cracked under his feet when he stood up, carrying me in his arms.

"Why did you do that?" He asked, sitting at the end of my bed in the hospital. He swatted at my hand that picked at the bandages on my face.

"I look like him," I said, my tone monotonous. "I look exactly like my father."

"So you tried to disfigure your own face?" His eyebrows laced together.

"I don't want to scare her."

All the mirrors in the mansion got taken down after that. No one ever mentioned the scars that ended up across my face. No one ever questioned why the mask was always over my face.

After that, I stopped caring.

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