(An imagined diary written from our daughter’s perspective)
I awake with stomach cramps too painful to bear silently. So I scream. The things above me stare silently into the distance.
There are no feelings in those colour-filled eyes. No feelings at all. As a pale green light creeps slowly into the room I begin to visualise my surroundings. While surrounded by the cold expanse of a soft prison encasing my view I see little except a vast white space above me. The things weightlessly bobbing above won’t respond to my enquiries. At times they follow each other ominously in a moronic, circular parade. There is an accompanying music to their slavery. It sounds as if bones are being crunched between the blackened teeth of giants. My stomach cramps even further and in the mangled chaos of the morning I soil myself.
The pain ebbs away, yet now I lie here in my own faeces. A familiar acrid smell fills the room. The white space above me offers no respite. So I scream harder and longer. There is a muffled shuffling in the distance. The soft padding of feet. A brief gust of wind as the door to my room is pushed open. The things rotate backwards against their mechanical shackles then morosely swing forward to their original positions. Sometimes if I kick them hard enough I can induce their musical clatter but this is an effort I am unwilling to partake in this morning.
“Good morning little one!”
“Good morning. I have yet again soiled myself,” I tell her.
The wrinkling of her nose indicates that she is more than aware of this. She bends over the side of my cot. Her hair brushes against my face. I stop screaming for a moment to gaze at her face. Her eyes are half closed. Her smile sits awkwardly on her face. She leans over and tucks each hand under me to lift me out of my cot. I am free. The room and the occupants stand to greet me. My loyal silent subjects.
First there is Flat Teddy. A useful companion when initialising a cot-exit strategy. His time will come but for now he sleeps.
Next to greet me is Milly. A strange and weird creature with dark, soulless eyes. She makes me feel endlessly uncomfortable. Why she persists in staring at me is a peculiar matter. She remains one to watch.
Oliver is my trusted companion. Long into the night have we conversed on matters close to my heart. Along with Flat Teddy he too provides a platform for potential escape. His eyes speak the language of trust and accompaniment.
Best of all is Bunny. I cannot sleep without this soft-faced companion wrapped around my fingers. Ever will he be my most treasured of friends.
But the observations of the morning are drawn short by Mummy. She draws me close to her. My head now rests against her warm, soft skin. Her essence is my rapture. Her smell wraps around me. My fingers, once clumsy and inept, feel strong and supple. I curl each digit into a fist and bash her chest in my ecstasy. I cannot help but squeal in delight. She moves me in ways I cannot control. I am addicted to her. I hear clumsy footsteps. Daddy, the one who elates yet saddens me in equal measure, is leaving me. Again. I turn from Mummy and call out to him:
“Daddy! Don’t leave us today. There are so many things to accomplish with the morning. I can show you my rolling trick I showed Mummy yesterday. She must have told you about it? I turned on my front then turned back over again. Mummy was ecstatic and I’m sure you will be too? Daddy!”
Yet it is not to be. He is leaving us again. He shows his face at the door to smile at me, dashes into the room to kiss my head before heading towards the bathroom. I will enjoy ripping the hairs out of his chest later. But no matter. My soiled clothes are removed. I am nude for a short while which pleases me no end and I squeal in my short freedom and the anticipation of what is to come next. The euphoria of breakfast. The supple, warm combination of aroma and taste entangle me in their web of hedonism. I am at one with her and at one with myself. My very being centres itself in a slow passionate dance of blissful elation. The universe speaks to me in these moments.
But not for long. Daddy enters the room and bends to kiss me again. I cannot help but smile at him. In my intoxication I can forgive him for anything. In the paradise of my inebriation the world is a joyous kingdom indeed.
I fart loudly which induces fits of laughter from both of my companions. At times I struggle to understand this world. Its gentle savagery grants little comprehension.
This sample chapter is taken from my book Sometimes you have to Bite the Dog published by Soul Rocks.