Macabre - His Beginning

- Chapter One -

Autumn, 1807

I stared down at the dead rat lying on the ground before me. A mixture of feelings washed over me as I looked at it. The first was disgust as it was such a filthy creature that spread disease and I didn't particularly want to become ill. A stronger feeling of envy engulfed me. This rat had found freedom in its death. Something I knew I'd be longing for sometime soon. Lastly, a more desperate feeling took hold of me. Hunger. My stomach began to growl as I eyed off the rat. I furrowed my brow and shook my head. No! I won't go that far. I was still quick enough and small enough to make off with whatever real food people left, without being caught. I kicked the dead animal out of my path and trudged away.

It had been a few weeks now since my parents abandoned me to some strange, sleazy looking man. I knew why they gave me up. It was simply a matter of survival for them. They couldn't afford to keep me and feed their own faces at the same time. As my parents walked away from the grim looking man, he tighten his hold on my shoulder as if to make sure I wouldn't chase after them. As his grip clenched harder onto me I could somehow sense that he only had sinister intentions for me. I knew I just had to get away from this awful man. When my parents were out of sight he began to turn me towards his workhouse but I felt his grip loosen just the slightest amount. This was my chance. My one and only opportunity to run. And that's exactly what I did... I ran. But to the mans surprise I didn't run in the direction my parents had gone. Why would I want to go back to them. I resented them... hated them for leaving me. I knew I'd have just as much chance of living on the streets than with them. It was all a matter of survival after all... That's what they taught me that day.

Time passed and the days started growing shorter and colder. I had found a small alley to take shelter in away from the disgustingly well-off people walking the streets. I glared at them as I huddled up against the side of a building. My knees brought up to my chin to savour any warmth I had left. The frigid temperature had made me slow down and I could barely run away from the people I stole food off. I'd have to put my pride aside and eat whatever I could find, no matter what it was. I wanted to survive, even if it was just to spite my parents. This thought alone put some determination in me. I put my hand on the wall to brace myself as I crawled to my feet. With a small stumble and dragging feet, I began my search.

It had been two days since beginning my search. I had only found a small scrap of food that was barely enough to feed a bird. My eyes were blurring and my knees were bleeding from the many times I had fallen to the ground. My legs becoming to weak to hold me up. I wasn't going to last much longer at this rate and no amount of determination was going to magically pick me up to my feet again. One last push was all I had in me. I headed towards a bakery that I somewhat frequently stole scraps of food from. It was in my sights and a small glimmer of hope had risen in me. But that was but a fleeting feeling as my vision blurred and I fell to the ground. I could hear people chattering all around me but none willing to help. With my eyelids barely open I used my last ounce of strength to drag myself along the ground to a dark alley. A place that always made me feel comfortable. But my last thoughts were filled with anger and hatred for the selfish people of this world. One last push to bring myself further into my precious, dark, safe place. But as I reached out, my hand fell on something cold and furry. I glanced up and saw the world mocking me. A rat under my hand to remind me how my stupid pride brought me here. But no more. I grasped the animal and slowly inched it towards my mouth. As I opened my mouth to take a bite an old walking cane flicked the rat from my hand. Tears uncontrollably welled up in my eyes.

"Enough of that now boy." A mans voice, firm but kind, came from above me. Next thing I knew half a loaf of bread was placed into my palm. Without hesitation I stuffed it into my mouth. I heard the man give a throaty chuckle as he watched me eat. But even though I had eaten, it had come too late. At least I'd die with a fully belly I thought as my consciousness faded. 

* * *

I felt warm... alive. But surely I died in that cold dark alley. I had expected to die, I accepted it. This warmth I felt on my face was betraying what I believed to be true though. I didn't dare open my eyes. I desperately wanted this feeling to last but the sound of a plate and cutlery being placed down onto a surface to my side forced my eyes to open out of curiosity.

"Ah, welcome back."

I looked towards the voice. It was the same one that helped me, fed me bread. A man sat next to me with a big, friendly smile on his face.

"Hungry?" he asked me as he held up a spoon. I nodded and a small smile crept to the corner of my mouth.