Page 102 of Viripotent

Papa said you have to make deals, don’t be weak or beg. She pulls on my arm. Her nails scratch my hand, and she doesn’t say yes or no. That means she’s thinking, and I’ll have cake when I turn six. Smiling at the thought of cake, I forget mama’s going to be angry as we walk towards our house. We have the biggest because papa is important. It’s why he had to move to the prison and I’m going to be strong like him.

My shoulder burns even more when she opens the door and pushes against my back. I turn around to see why she’s angry and my head moves to the side. She slaps me again and my cheek stings. I count them in my head and move my fingers on my thigh. The next one is with the back of her hand, and it pushes me into the wall.

My cheek stings but I stand back up. You’re not allowed to fall. If you fall you’re weak. That’s what papa said. She pulls my hair back and I don’t scream. That means you’re weak.

“Should liars get cake?”

I shake my head and I hide how I’m sad about the ptichye moloko. I could already taste it and now I won’t get it.

My head moves to the side when the back of her other hand touches my not stinging c heek and something warm touches my lip. I poke my tongue to see what it is, and I know I’m bleeding again. It tingles and feels funny making me laugh. Trying to not to laugh, I push my lips together and mama spits on my cheek.

“Useless bastard. Go in the shed.”

It’s snowing, and the shed is always cold. I don’t like it in there, it’s dark and smells worse than Piotr. Shaking my head, mama gets angrier and wraps her hands around my neck.

“Disrespectful. Horrible boy.”

I don’t want to hurt her and try to get her fingers away, but they don’t move. It’s all blurry and my eyes move but she doesn’t stop.

It smellsfunny but I’m not in the shed and my body hurts. I open my eyes and I can see the marbles I stole and know I’m in my room. Everything is cold and my clothes are gone. Lifting my head makes me confused. I don’t lay on my front, it squashes my face. Mama probably put me to bed and doesn’t know I don’t like it.

My body really hurts, it’s not the same as mama’s punishment when I’ve been bad. It hurts inside and I want to cry. Closing my eyes to stop, because papa will know I wasweak doesn’t help, and they come out from the sides. More come out when I push my fists into my eyes to stop them. I’m not allowed to cry. But they’re not listening to me, and when I shout in my head they get worse.

I try to sit up but that makes me cry harder and there’s blood on my legs. It’s mixed with white stuff, and everything smells wrong. I run out of my room, but it hurts more and there’s blood all over my bum. Mama doesn’t look angry when I go into the kitchen, and Piotr isn’t here. I can smell him everywhere and I look for his cigarettes to see where he is. There are no cigarettes and I can still smell him.

Mama doesn’t shout at me for crying and she smiles at me for the first time. I can’t stop crying and she’s going to tell papa I was weak, but I know what’s wrong.

“Mama, I’m dying,” I tell her.

Her smile gets bigger, and she strokes my hair with a nice voice.

“You’re not dying. You were a very good boy and got ptichye moloko.”

Wiping my snot and tears on my arm, I try to show her and turn, looking over my shoulder.

“There’s blood,” I say and point at my bum and legs.

She doesn’t stop smiling and I feel better.

“I know. I’ll clean you up, okay?”

I nod and wait for mama to tell me where to go but she picks me up.

Mama never picks me up or smiles at me. I’m dying and she won’t tell me. I know I am because mama hugs me, and she never ever does that. I’m still crying when she bathes me. It’s all things I have to do myself. I’m not a baby anymore that’s why. But mama keeps smiling at me and being nice.

She puts medicine on my bum and wraps me in a towel, then picks me up again. I don’t wait for mama to hug me this time.My head goes on her shoulder, and I play with her hair. It’s shiny and dark like mine. I like this mama, and I was a good boy. Mama said I was a very good boy.She strokes my hair and doesn’t hit me, and she carries me. Mama never carries me, so I must have been really strong.

She sits at the kitchen table and keeps the towel wrapped around me before she goes to a big box on the counter. I don’t blink as she takes out a big ptichye moloko and puts it on the table. It’s bigger than my head and I have a big one. Mama said it ruined her because of the size, but I don’t know how when it’s my head. I probably had to take her favorite pillow.I’ll give mama my pillow, then she’ll stay nice all the time.

Kicking my feet, I wait for mama to sit down, and I was right that she’d smile if I shared my cake with her. She strokes my hair again and cuts a small slice for me. I stop myself to ask for more. That’s greedy and papa isn’t here so we can’t be greedy. It’s why she had to give the sandwich to Piotr, and I went into the shed last time. I only wanted a bite, but you’re not allowed to be greedy. Have to be strong in everything.

She doesn’t say anything while I eat it. It’s sweet and tastes like chocolate. The smell of smoke makes it not taste as nice as mama takes out a cigarette and blows it in my face, but I don’t say anything, so her smile doesn’t go.

She strokes my hair again, and she doesn’t shout, and her voice is nice.

“You know your papa works very hard to pay for things like your cake? Food?”

Nodding my head, I slow down with only a little bit of my cake left.

---