Story: titelloos.

[Vlooienband]

[title]


[title]


With wide eyes the kid looked towards his uncle. He didn’t dare to try whether he could or couldn’t untie himself, not while he was watching at him. Those combat boots and his cane were horrible. Why on earth did he have to wet his bed, why? He tried to make it to the bathroom, but failed in a horrible manner. Six years old and still not house-broke. Everything changed a couple of weeks ago, all because his parents. They died, and with their death, nothing was the same again.
No more TV, no more ice-cream, not even a little bit of positive attention. No matter how many times he said he was sorry, Uncle Jevice still blamed him for everything that seemed to be wrong with the world.
Things change, people change. He wasn’t always like this, uncle Jevice. That’s why Chaim agreed to live with his uncle until he was old enough to take care of himself. Chaim was the only one who survived the accident and still cried whenever he thought of it. Not even that could stop Jevice from letting him describe it over and over, even though his whole face was soaking wet from all the tears.
‘School seems to be a nice place after all,’ Chaim thought. ‘A place, were you actually have got a chance and something to say, without getting hit.’
Ah, well, he banned those thoughts the second they got into his head. He wasn’t allowed to go to school anymore, just because Jevice told the board Chaim was a boy who had learning problems and that he would ‘go to’ home school.

It was the fifth of June when Chaim was wandering around the grocery store, not wanting to go home, but not wanting to stay there too. The nearby park would be a welcome change of scenery, with all the birds, dogs and the pond.
Walking there took longer than he had expected, his foot ached. That was, of course, by uncle Jevices’ doing. When he gave him his dinner, the meat wasn’t rare enough, resulting in a firm beating. Chaim rolled up like a hedgehog, trying to get as least damage as possible, which worked. There wasn’t any damage to his organs, but his leg… dreadful. Uncle Jevice threw him against a chair, and his right leg broke his fall.
Therefore, he limped.
He tried to walk as fast as possible and realized that he looked preposterous, but ignored that. Even though people stared at him, he limped on.

Half an hour later Chaim sat on a bench at the pond. His eyes were half closed and a smile rested on his face. ‘Wouldn’t I be better of dead,’ he thought. No, that wouldn’t be better. Death is no option, it isn’t an easy exit. Besides, Mom and Dad will blame me for killing them.
It wasn’t my fault, was it? It was… everything is my fault.
“Hello there, young man,” and elderly woman said. Chaim looked beside him and stared directly into the greyish eyes of an very, very old lady. Her face was pale and full of wrinkles. He guessed that the dress she wore would have to be as least as old as the lady herself.
“Wha, what…”
Chaim couldn’t speak a single word, he could only stutter.
“Well, what do you say then,” the woman demanded while her hand reached out to his.
“Uh, er, sorry. I’m Chaim.”
He gently shook her hand, trying not to break it. Old people are so fragile, these days.
The old woman introduced herself as “Mrs Dutterbery the third, from Ulster.”
Chaim didn’t know what Ulster was; neither did he know why she was a third Mrs Dutterbery. There didn’t seem to be any other real old ladies in the neighbourhood.
Rude, yet subtle the lady asked what was wrong with him, since not a lot of young boys walk around being damaged like he was. Chaim bowed his head silently. He wasn’t allowed to talk about the things that happened at home, and he never wanted to do such things. However, this Mrs Dutterbery had something. There seriously was something peculiar about her.
After five minutes of small talk, he told her, little by little, what had happened to him, his sister, his mom and dad and what uncle Jevice did to him. Mrs Dutterbery silently listened to him. When he was done speaking and cried a bit, she gave him a great big hug.
“There, there now, everything’s going to be all right. You won’t have to worry about your uncle Jevice anymore; I will take care of him. I’ll make sure that you aren’t going to be hit any longer.”
“Are you from the social services,” Chaim asked a bit scared. Uncle Jevice told him that the people from the social services are evil succubusses and are not to be trusted, no matter what.
Mrs Dutterbery shook her head, laughing. She gave him another big hug and told him that she was a messenger from God. God told her that she was to get Chaim home right this instant.
Now that was an unexpected twist of the story. Chaim had thought that she was either a evil succubus from hell or a nice old faerie who would give him a hamster and destroy uncle Jevice.
“Come, my child. God wants you.”
Mrs Dutterbery put her arm around the boy and guided him towards the bridge.
“But what about the groceries? I have to get them home.”
“There will be loads and loads of groceries in Heaven. Now come.”
Chaim didn’t trust it for one bit. It just wasn’t possible that the stuff he had bought at the supermarket would be as cheap in Heaven as here.
“I don’t want to go,” he said timid. “Those groceries are just too cheap; something has to be done with them.”
“All right,” Mrs Dutterbery sighed. “I shall bring them to your uncle, but you have to go to Heaven first. Will you do that for me, darling?”
While saying that, she looked in his eyes again. He felt weary and agreed. Going to Heaven wouldn’t be that hard, now would it?
“Right. Goodbye, darling. God loves you.”
Chaim saw that no-one paid attention to him. He just fell of the bridge, in the river Thames. ‘I’m going to see Mom, Dad and Lizzy again,’ he thought exited. Mommy, here I come!
He embraced the water, and hereby his death.
Mrs Dutterbery slowly walked away, leaving the groceries standing there, all alone.

[Reneetje]

Veel te Engels voor mij, sorry.

[Vampyyy]

ik vind het verhaal mooi verteld.
ik vraag me af waarom je zoveel vraagtekens gebruikt. ook op plaatsen waar een comma of iets anders hoort te staan.
het lijken net 2 aparte stukken bijna. de ene vol met ellende en de andere zo mooi verteld hoe hij gewoon zelfmoord pleegt.

[Vlooienband]

Vampyyy schreef op 24-06-2003 @ 13:55:
ik vind het verhaal mooi verteld.
ik vraag me af waarom je zoveel vraagtekens gebruikt. ook op plaatsen waar een comma of iets anders hoort te staan.
het lijken net 2 aparte stukken bijna. de ene vol met ellende en de andere zo mooi verteld hoe hij gewoon zelfmoord pleegt.

Dat is omdat opera mij haat. Het waren aanhalingstekens. Schop opera, red een kitten.