by MillieCat
"What a cute baby", I told my teacher. She had brought her three-month-old son to our third grade class for us to see. "What is his name? How old is he? Where are his teeth? What is that plastic thing around his bottom…?" I asked on and on. My teacher had long since ignored the many questions that flowed from me constantly. I guess I am a wee bit curious, and was even then.
"Where do babies come from?" I asked earnestly and loudly. I really wanted to know, REALLY wanted to know. She knew that look in my eye and the edge in my voice. Suddenly, she got the same expression on her face that she did four months before, when she had brought her puppy to class and found me trying to take it apart. I just HAD to now what made that cute little tail wag.
Holding the baby even more closely, she spoke shakily, "Maybe you should ask your moth…" She stopped cold. She was aware that I did not even know my mother. "I will ask my papa", I smiled. I was looking forward to getting the answer, and nothing else was on my mind for the rest of the school day. "Papa! Papa!", I yelled as I ran in the door, breathless from sprinting all five blocks home. I knew he would probably be asleep, it being the first of the month and all, with a fresh check and a liquor store nearby.
"PAPA!" I wailed in earnest, and then I saw him coming out of the kitchen, bottle in hand. "Yes, Millie dear?" he asked. He, too, knew the tone of my voice now was one that NEEDED an answer. Papa understood. Papa loved me. He sat on the sofa and smiled at me, and stared at me, as he did quite often.
"Where do babies come from?" He just gazed at me. "Well, Papa, where do they come from?" Still nothing. "Papa, are you okay?" "Come over here and sit down", he said, finally. "You are a pretty little girl…so much like your mother. I remember when I first saw you, I knew that I had a daughter that I could love." He was close, and his breath was bad. "So, you want to know where babies come from." My ears twitched, my heart pounded, my body writhed. Yes, I wanted to know…needed to know. "Well, I will just have to show you, then." He quickly moved closer, and pushed me onto my back on the couch. I hoped that it would not take very long for him to show me.
He then lifted my skirt, and ripped off my panties. "Hey!" I said. "Why did you do that?" He just laughed. He then grabbed a wrist and a leg with each hand. Then came mind-bending pain. It seemed to go on forever. For a moment, I even almost forgot my question.
"TELL ME!" I screeched, "TELL ME!" He got off of me, laughing. I tried to sit up, but could not. It hurt too much. "Papa! Tell me now!" He laughed, "I just did", and he started off to the bedroom. "I do not understand." I sobbed. "Please tell me." He just laughed. I managed to wrench myself upright. "Please, please, please…I have to know. You tell me other things. Why not this? You told me about the bad people that we must steal from, about how mother did not love us and left us alone, and about how there is not really a god. Why won’t you tell me this?!?"
He stumbled to the bed and fell hard on it. I managed to get up painfully and follow him. I went to the foot of the bed and screamed at him "Wake up! Wake up!" but he did not. I pulled his face towards me and yelled in his ear "Wake up! Tell me!" I slapped his face, harder and harder. I pried his eyes open. I let go and they fell closed. I pried again, and again, and again, until my hands were covered in blood, as were his eyes, what was left of them. I did this for longer than I can remember. The next thing I remember is waking up to screaming. Our neighbor who took me to school in the mornings was in the doorway of the bedroom, and was screaming. She ran out of the house. I guess I fell asleep again because the next thing that I remember is being held very closely by a lady cop, and hearing a different scream. It was Papa. I was being held too closely to see, and I was rushed out of there. I never saw my Papa again.
I was much the quiet child and teenager after that. I found that listening and watching was a much better way of finding out the things that I wanted to know. If I wanted to know if Billy had a girlfriend, I simply followed him. If I wanted to know what my foster parents were arguing about I would just get in my closet that shared a wall with their room, and listen. I even found out about the baby thing from a book. Papa had been showing me, after all.
Then, when I was sixteen, a lovely girl came to our school. She was not in my grade, but a senior. She caught my attention as I was walking through the hall and heard the loveliest lilting French speech that I had ever listened to. I did not even speak French, but this caught me instantly, and her beauty held me there. ‘Who is she?’ I wondered. I would find out.
It was nearing the end of school and her imminent graduation so I needed to establish where she lived and her regular hangouts quickly while I still had school from which to follow her. I found out her name easily enough. It was Allyson. ‘Lovely name for a lovely creature,’ I thought. At first, her routine seemed normal – she would get a ride home with friends, get something to eat (I love those big dining room windows), and maybe go mall hopping or movie seeing, though she preferred plays, and other sweet but expensive pastimes. I also occasionally got the very definite feeling that I was not the only one watching her.
Then, two weeks before the end of school, her parents disappeared. There were police, reporters and friends around her constantly, but she felt utterly alone. I, of course, knew that she was not. I was with her. She was eighteen, so by all rights an adult, and had no other family. Of course, she had offers from everyone imaginable to stay with them, but she declined. All but one, that is. By this time, I could get into her house without tripping the alarms. Come to think of it, the police may have suspected that the same person who had been tripping those alarms might be responsible for her parents’ disappearance. It was, sadly, much easier to get in without her parents around. That is how I found out about the offer of a ‘safe haven’ from a person whom I had not seen before, but who felt eerily familiar. It was at night, very late in fact. My foster parents did not notice when I went out, as long as I brought home a report card and bathed regularly. Not that they could have stopped me. I was her the house, in Allyson’s own closet behind a wedding dress that never moved.
"Come away with me," he said. "I have a place for you. You have nothing here." Not very eloquent, I thought, but through the course of the conversation he convinced her to go to Ft. Worth with him. She must have been so lonely, to accept such an offer.
‘My poor Allyson. I will come with you.’ I mouthed. She almost seemed to hear. "I am going to Canada with my friend Allyson. You know, the one who’s parents are missing." No objection yet from my keepers. "She is sooo lonely, and I am her bestest friend, and she said that she would pay for everything for the whole summer." I heard them discussing it later. They were talking about how they would still get the money for keeping me, and how they would have no expenses for me for the summer, and how I had not seemed this happy about anything since they knew me. It worked! They did not even call Allyson, thank goodness, or they may have found that I lied about her destination and everything else. They even gave me $100 of ‘just in case’ money!
The next day I got into her house again. To my surprise, she was there, asleep. I looked through her things until I found a plane ticket and an address paper clipped to it. There was also a lot of cash. This guy wanted no mistakes. I memorized the address but got edgy so found something to write it down with as well. I ran home, grabbed a backpack that I had prepared for myself, hid the luggage that I had packed under the baseboards, left a note, and was out of there. A bus to Ft. Worth turned out to be pretty expensive, so I hitched a ride. I got picked up by a truck driver who was going to Dallas, who lectured me on how I should NEVER do that again the WHOLE way there. Sheesh. Ah well, free is free. He even fed me a bit, and took pity on me and brought me to Ft. Worth. I said I was headed for TCU, so that is where he let me off. It was also close to the address, but I was so tired. I found a nearby storm drain. I had never seen one so large. I went about twenty feet inside and fell asleep in the cool dark. When I woke up I did not see the light of daylight at the entrance, but rather the dim yellow of artificial lights. I wondered how late it was, and felt a great need to get out of there.
I emerged to the city. It was so pretty here at night. I felt instantly at home. Wandering a bit, I came to a group of restaurants. The food smelled so good. I was not alone in this opinion. Many stray cats enjoyed the aroma with me and I could hear others digging through the dumpsters.
"Here, kitty, kitty," I called as I sat down on the pavement. Some came, others were shy. I loved cats, and always had. We were much alike. I petted and petted them. Cats like me, too. One even fell asleep on my lap in short order. I then reached around to my backpack and took out one of my precious cans of tuna fish. The instant I started to open it I was surrounded by cats and kittens licking, scratching and biting my fingers, and fighting each other. With bloody fingers, I managed to get the can open and set it down. They even fought over the empty can! I laughed and laughed as I wiped the blood from my hands and fingers on the inside of my shirt.
Suddenly, I felt a strong, frightening presence. The cats all slowly disappeared into the allies and dumpsters. I heeded their keen senses, as well as my own feelings, and made for a nice lighted populated street in search of the address. No worries with the trusty Mapsco that I had stolen. It was for the greater good, though. The clerk would not have understood. I found it, a small house just outside the main hustle and bustle of the college district, and inside I saw my fair Allyson. I was long past curiosity now. I knew all that I need to know. I had seen her in joy, in jubilation, in sorrow, and in desolation. I knew that I loved her. I knew that is what I had been trying to find out.
Ah, the rush of truth flooded through me. With no conscious thought of my own, I found myself knocking on the door. Allyson answered it. "Millie?" she asked confusedly. "Millie from school?" I swooned. She knew my name? I had never talked to her, and had tried not to ever bother her. I had only once made eye contact with her, and then I had looked away quickly. "What an interesting surprise! I know that we never talked. Do you know me? I am Allyson, I was a senior there. I heard that you were probably one of the shyest people in school. I know how it is to be shy, so I tried to talk to you sometimes, but you always seemed to fade into the crowd whenever I tried. What are you doing here, anyway?" My head was swimming. "Please, come inside." She was always so gracious. Then she stuttered a bit, "Um, Paul, this is Millie, a uh, friend of mine from school." I looked at the figure to which she was speaking, and was cowed to silence. "How sweet," he said with a definite edge to his voice. "Since you were so KIND as to let her in MY little house, perhaps I will just take a little stroll and let you two CHILDREN have some girl talk," and with that he whisked out.
I looked at her apologetically, and her eyes followed him as she murmured, "Strange, he has always been so kind and genteel. Perhaps he has things to take care of." Then she looked at me and asked again "So, what ARE you doing here? Not that I mind."
I tried to speak, but nothing came out. Then, through the still open door, another presence appeared. I KNEW that I had felt this presence before. I shuddered. Allyson gasped. He looked at her intently and commanded, "You really should go to bed, now. It is late. You will get the chance to see Millie again later." To my surprise, that is exactly what she did. "So," he said when Allyson was gone. "You like to find out things." He led me out of the house and locked the door with a key. ‘How did he get a key?’ I wondered.
He guided me along. I could not seem stop, or at least could not seem to WANT to stop. "I had to see how far you would go. I had to make sure. I have been watching you for a long time. You came all of this way, alone, for your need to know." Though I knew that this guy was probably about to kill me, or worse, all that I could think was that it had been worth it. I knew what I needed to know. That is what mattered.
"Ah, tuna fish, I smell," he sighed. "The kitties do love that, don’t they? Well, you shall have a long time to spread your particular brand of enlightenment, Millie. A very long time." With that, I snapped momentarily out of my trance to realize that I was in the same storm drain that I had slept in during the day. He then got close, the way Papa had.
I started crying, and shrieking, "No, Papa! I understand now! You do not have to show me!" And then the same kind of mind bending pain, though not between my legs and in my stomach, but in my whole body. The pain stopped suddenly, replaced by a pleasure so wholly indescribable that I would put gladly endure whatever pain to feel this ecstasy. And then, I felt nothing. I had slept through the day again it seemed. How strange, for the last thing I remember was early evening. ‘Oh my, last night, and I am still here. What of Allyson?’ I worried. I found my way out of the drain again, but I seemed to be in deeper than before. I felt strange, but I had things to find out so I ignored it.
I came across the way to the restaurants again. Though I had not eaten, the food did not smell appealing as it had last night. And the kitties that I had petted and fed seemed to be keeping a safe distance from me, watching with their glowing eyes. "Here, kitty, kitty." I called, but none came. I still had my backpack, so I got out another can of tuna and opened it. The kitties were obviously wanting of it, yet holding back for some reason. I set it down and backed up a couple of steps. The bravest ones came and ate cautiously, and I smiled. They were so cute. Very pretty. I love kitties. Then, faster than I could consciously stop myself, I grabbed one up, ripped its throat open with a sharpness of tooth that I did not know I had, and sucked it dry of every ounce of blood that I could squeeze from its malleable body. And then I did it to another. And another. Some were trapped in the dumpster, trying to claw their way past my flesh, but I just grabbed and stuffed the hissing, clawing mess up to my mouth, ripped, and squeezed, over and over again. When there were no more to be found I slumped inside the trash and wept.
"Please let me wake up!" I cried. Then, I heard some rustling very near where I was. I dragged myself up over the top of the dumpster and peeked out. It was a street person. He was very old, and babbling to himself. "NO!" my brain cried. I knew what I was about to do. I hardly even remember doing it. If only he had not looked me in the eyes as he was dying. He almost looked grateful. I knew that what I had done was wrong. Why did he have to confuse the issue? "Not totally wrong," came the voice that had carried me into this nightmare. I turned. "It could be totally wrong, if you left that body lying around for others to find. I will take care of it this time, childe, but in the future, I may not be around. Or I may choose not to help." And then he was gone, vanished instantly before my eyes. "And go and see Allyson, she is concerned," he said, though I still could not see him. I was worried for Allyson, too.
With a numbed mind, I trekked to the house and peeked through a window. I saw her there, wringing her hands. I heard people walking up the street. I had no chance to hide. The only thing between us would be the trellis and it did not even have any vines on it. ‘They must not see me!’ I thought frantically. They walked past and looked my direction. ‘NO!’ I did not even breathe, and strangely, it was easy not to. They looked back to each other and kept walking. ‘How could they have not seen me?’ I puzzled. I looked down. I was covered in blood, and lit by the porch light. How careless, yet they did not notice me. I was afraid to let Allyson see me in this state, but the overwhelming unconscious urge that made me knock on the door the first time was doing it again.
"Millie!" she half sighed, half screamed. "I was so worried about you." Then she looked me up and down. "And it was for good reason, I see! Please, come inside. You can borrow some of my clothes." I came in, but kept my distance from her. The thought of the street person’s eyes as he died was fresh in my mind. And though I felt somewhat sated, she looked positively enticing. She would have none of that standoffishness, though. She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to the bathroom. Next, she turned on the shower, took my clothes off, obviously trying not to gag, and pushed me in. It was the most normal I had felt all night.
I got out and dried off. She brought me, of all things, a dress. Oh well. After tonight wearing a dress did not seem so weird after all, even though I had not worn one since the last time I saw my Papa. "Look what I found on my night stand when I got up," and she handed me a business card. It had a black silhouette of a bird on it. Handwritten underneath it was: ‘Worry not, childe, for Paul will trouble you no more.’ "What am I to do, if the plans that Paul had made for me are not to be? He said that he would take care of me. He said that he loved me, even though he had known me for such a short while. And his words went right to my heart. Strange… the effect seems to be fading already." "I will take care of you." I said without thinking. "And I think you must have other friends as well, judging by that card." She did not seem to remember her other visitor last night. I was quite relieved at the thought of that. She looked at me. "I am why you came here, aren’t I?" I nodded. "I think that perhaps we can take care of each other. There is no telling what Paul really had planned for me. He was just preying on my vulnerability. I do not think that is what you are doing. I think we need each other." I nodded again, and looked into her beautiful eyes for the first time.