Who I am?
Why am I standing here, looking at nothing?
And why am I so hungry?
I can’t seem to focus. Where did I come from? Why am I here? I don’t remember anything, but I am so hungry! It’s a hunger I don’t think I’ve ever felt before… well… before I just woke up here in this church pew. There’s something familiar about it, but… I can’t seem to put my finger…
Oh God! Two of my fingers are missing, but… it doesn’t seem to hurt. In fact… I don’t seem to feel anything. That’s odd.
I think I hear something coming from that door to the left. Maybe someone in there can help me remember who I am.
Moving seems so hard. My legs are stiff and my right foot is bent at a bad angle. Funny… I don’t seem to feel it though. I’ll go to that door. I wish the hunger would stop. It’s maddening, but I don’t know what I want to eat. The noise behind the door is louder. Someone’s talking. I can’t make out what they’re saying though. I’m in a church… Maybe someone’s praying in there. Isn’t that what you do in churches? I can’t remember. This hunger is blocking my ability to think. But I’ll just knock on this door…
My hand doesn’t want to close right. It’s just like a claw and instead of knocking, it thumps loudly against the thin wood of the door. It’ll have to do. I thump it against the door again and the voice inside (I’m sure it’s a voice now,) stops as the wood cracks beneath the weight of my hand.
I try to call out to the person on the other side, but all I can manage is a raspy gasp of foul smelling air. I can smell it, but there’s something else I can smell more. It’s making this hunger inside me grow.
I thump against the door again and the wood shatters away. I didn’t mean to do that! It’s just that I need help and I need it now. Through the door’s hole I can see a young choir boy with wide eyes staring from across the room. He looks scared. I wonder why?
I try to speak again but, again all that comes out is a harshness of dust in my throat. I reach through the door to plead to him to help me. As I do, my body’s weight causes the door to break even more. I go through it by accident and fall to the floor. The boy is scared! Maybe he’s scared I may hurt myself. He’s moving to get something…
Oh… it’s large piece of wood… a baseball bat. Now why would he…
He just took a swing at my head! Lucky for me he missed. This just won’t do! I had better put a stop to this before someone get’s hurt. But… It’s so hard to focus. The hunger is so strong now. The boy… he looks so… appetizing!
I grab his leg by the ankle and pull him down. I smell his flesh. The hunger… the hunger it’s… too strong!
I bite into the boy’s neck and rip out the flesh there. He’s screaming and trying to pull away, but I’m too hungry now and I want something to eat! I dive in for more of his flesh and push more down my dry, unresponsive, throat! Blood is everywhere, the floor, my face, the boy’s body.
He’s stopped moving… good. Now I can get some more food. But… I seem to remember something now.
I’m seeing me… at the door… but…
Oh God! I’m dead! I’m seeing myself through the boy’s eyes! I’ve gained his memories! He was my son!
We’d come to church to escape the … escape the…
The what? I don’t remember…
Who am I?
What am I doing here with this boy at my feet?
Why am I so… hungry?