Pieces

I still don't own any of the House's inhabitants!

Author's warning: More of Otis's life revealed here. There is animal abuse and eating
disorder scenes. Please be forewarned.
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“I dunno, he just got real sick, Eve. I have no fucking idea from what. Just coughin’
and sweaty.” I could feel myself being laid on a bed. I moaned softly. Please don’t
hurt me. I’ve already been hurt, please no more. I began to try to get away.
Someone else sat on the bed and I began to try to run away. I was too weak and
despite my mind screaming my body couldn’t move.

I could smell the sweet scent of perfume, was that hibiscus? “Shh, honey, you’re
fine.”

“He really has some fucked up nightmares.” I knew that voice…but from where?

I felt a gentle hand on my face. A mothering touch. “He looks scared to death,
what’s he ‘fraid of?” I couldn’t open my eyes. It was so fucking dark then.

I dunno, I just met him a little while ago. Seems pretty fucked up.”

“Hey, hand me that.” I felt something cold touch my face which made
me panic. “Easy, easy.” Who was this woman? Where was I? Wasn’t I just home?
Something about the cool wet cloth made me feel better. “Christ, John, he’s soaking
wet…go get me blankets. I’m gonna try and break his fever if I can.” I moaned
again, “Easy, honey, you’re home now…” Home? The idea sent a shiver down my
spine.


It was my 7th birthday. I had asked if I was going to get a cake. I don’t really know
why I expected one this year because I had never gotten one before. But I wanted
one more than anything. Enough to face the possibility of a beating if it tickled my
parent’s fancy. “Why the fuck should I get you a cake? Ain’t you fat enough?” My
mother crooned from her chair. I looked hesitantly in the mirror. My face was sunk
in and you could see my ribs. Was I really fat? Maybe if I ate even less then she
would love me. “Not to mention you’re fuckin’ ugly.” I put a hesitant hand up to my
face. “Fucking skin white as snow and red eyes.” She snorted in contempt at me.
“Only the Devil marks people in that way.” Would I be damned because I was
marked by the Devil? “None of the people who are good God-fearing souls like your
father and I have red eyes…did you notice that, you piece of shit!” I looked slowly
again at my image. My skin was white, whiter than any others I had ever seen. And
my eyes were actually red with brown flecks in them. Sometimes they could be violet
in the early morning. But I was ugly and I knew it. “So no, you’re not going to get a
fucking cake until you lose some weight and die! You are a worthless piece of fucking
shit though.” I looked at my image in the mirror. I guess I must be fat then. I went
to the bathroom and stuck my finger down my throat and threw up what little food I
had managed to find. I rested my head on the seat, smelling the putrid toilet. My
stomach hurt now. I wouldn’t eat no matter what it took, I had to have a birthday cake.
It was all I wanted.

I went to my room and laid on my bed. I reached out and grabbed my book. I traced
my fingers on the pictures again. I also had drawings and poems in my book. I smiled
despite my split lip at Groucho. Otis B. Driftwood, he was so funny. I was never allowed
to go see a motion picture but I read the information about it so I had an idea of what
happened. Maybe someday I could be Otis Driftwood. From what I have read he’s witty
and funny. He makes a real good business man. Even though sometimes he’s careless.
I fell asleep thinking about A Night at the Opera. I would be anyone but me.

Rough hands woke me. Old man hands. “Well, Eve, the best thing that I can tell ya is
that he probably has pneumonia and he is so goddamn dehydrated I don’t know what to
do with him. He also has some sort of infection kicking the shit out of his body."

“Can you help him?” It was the woman again.

“Yeah, I can put an I.V. in him. Will he hold still?” Now who the hell was this?

“He hasn’t been really awake yet.” The woman was petting me. I relaxed under her gentle
touch. Touching for me has always been hard to accept. Up until very recently it only meant
pain and hate. Those are hard things to forget about when you correlate the sensation of
being touched with such strong emotions.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a few.” I heard a door close.

I remember seeing a kitty one day, a white one. I raced out into the yard to see him. When
he turned to greet me I saw something amazing…he had red eyes! Similar to mine! I had
hoped I could keep him. I brought him in the house.

My mother watched me come in. “Something else possessed by the Devil.” She rolled her
eyes. “You know the only way to be rid of the Devil is to beat him out. When you’re not of the
Lord of Darkness anymore you won’t look like you do. Your skin will be normal and you won’t
have red eyes. But until you accept our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ into your heart you will
always look like a freak!” I hated that word. She had called me it all of my life. I took the
kitty to my room.

At some point I went to sleep until I woke up to the sounds of mewing. I watched my father
walking out the door with my kitty. I screamed after him and ran down the stairs. He had a
rifle slung over one shoulder. He brought the butt of the rifle down on my nose. I spun
around seeing stars and I was bleeding everywhere. I fell over disorientated. “I already have
a piece of shit child possessed by Satan. I am not having a fucking cat possessed by the
Devil.” I could only lay there as I heard the door open. I curled up into a little ball. At the
sound of the gunshot I lost it and lay curled up and crying until I drug myself to my room.
I could hear those footfalls again after a few minutes. “Where are you, you little piece of
shit?” My father found me and worse yet found out I had been crying. “Oh, you want to cry
like a bitch?” He undid his belt and began to take off his clothes. “Let’s see how much of
a bitch you are!” He paused for a moment. "But I got something for ya before I make you
my bitch." I opened one terrified eye. I was shaking so bad. He wiped a handful of blood
over my face and down my clothes. I was confused at first until I saw the little white hairs
in the blood. "Something to remember your little fuzzy friend by!" He laughed at me as I
began to cry. He flipped me over onto my stomach.

I was suddenly awoken by a cold liquid being painted on the back of my hand. I laid there
until I felt a sudden sharp pain at that same spot. I tried to pull away. “Eve, hold onto ‘im
until I can tape this in. Shit, that was sheer luck. He’s so bad off I doubted I could find a
vein.” Eve, the woman who has been taking care of me, gently held me down. I heard some
sound like a wrapper and a squeaking sound. Something warm began to fill my hand.
“Here, this will relax him and I’ll start the antibiotics. Goddamn, I don’t know how he
managed so long with sepsis.”

“Is he going to be okay?” The woman was so gentle with me.

“It’s gonna take awhile and a lot of work. I'm guessing that the sepsis came from his arm.
We'll take care of that as soon as he's out. I guess with Vera now out of school due to her
little stunt she can help too.” After that his words blurred to my ears and I felt weightless.

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Okay everyone, I want to write more but I am exhausted. Read and think about the story.
It will not be easy but I appreciate any feedback.