Bow To The King, Celie

The Beginning

Chapter 2

My story begins at the very beginning when I was only five years old. There was only one bedtime story my mother used to tell me. It was about the god of nightmares, Gelid, who singlehandedly defeated and humiliated his brother, Adelio. After the war, everyone cut their ties with Gelid. Most sided with Adelio because he was older and considered more worthy of their respect.

Gelid was left all alone in his realm, where he continued to reign and would do so for eternity. Although the story was quite crude, filled with betrayal and loss, and not really suitable for a young child, it still gave me comfort. Maybe because my mother was the narrator.

My mother passed away shortly after my sixth birthday. At that time, I didn't know what death was. One day, I woke up for school but my mother didn't. I remember watching her and thinking how peaceful she looked while sleeping, just like an angel.

She used to bake cookies every day and distribute them in the neighborhood. When my neighbors noticed how strange it was for her to not show up without informing anyone, they came to check up on us, and that's when everyone realized that my mother was gone. Social workers came and took me away, comforting me with all the nice words in the English dictionary. Still, I felt anxious without her.

I remember that night to this day when I finally realized she was never coming back. Before that, I had hoped that it was just for a few days, she would come back and take me away from there. But when months passed by and there was still no sign of her, that's when it hit me that she was gone forever. I recall crying for two whole days and then promising myself I would never cry again.

It was a good sunny day when it was revealed a very wealthy and influential family was adopting me. When I saw them for the first time, I remember thinking how kind and lovely they both looked. Ms. Scarlett sat elegantly in her red gown, and Sir Benedict stood close to his wife. After all the farewells, we went off to my forever home.

I was in awe when I saw the house for the first time. It was like a castle you'd see in the movies. I had no idea such beauty existed outside the movies and books in the real world. They had a son, Nathaniel, who was the same age as I was. He stood at the entrance, with his arms folded in front of his chest, looking at me carefully.

Although I was afraid, I still gathered all the strength left in me and took a few steps toward him in hopes of befriending him. But as soon as he saw me walking towards him, he suddenly ran inside the house and disappeared. Did I do something wrong? My younger self said to herself, confused, now more scared than before.

The first few days were fine. Everything was normal. Although we didn't talk much, I was still given everything I needed to be alive.

And then it started, the mental and physical abuse, the punishments, and all the worst things you could imagine being done to a child. I was soon moved to the servant's headquarters and treated worse than them. Nathaniel, who I thought would be my friend, was the worst of them all. He kept me close as his punching bag. No matter what he was feeling, he would call me and punish me for things I didn't even do.

This was all a game for him.

Eleven years went by, and nothing changed. From crying myself to sleep every night to being immune to all the pain inflicted, I grew up. In all these years, I never found out much about my adopted parents. The one thing I observed, though, was that the parties and all the events arranged by the family were attended by some of the most absurd people.

Some of them didn't even look human. Growing up, I always wondered what happened at these get-togethers behind closed doors, but I was never invited inside.