CURSED: The Last of Five Kingdoms.

Episode11-Back to where it all started.

Everyone avoids me and I don't blame them. who wouldn't do so? Who knows, I would have done the same thing or even worse. It is so funny how things turn out in life. I did not choose this life and will never wild have chosen it, but, it chose me. I had to be the outcast, the rejected, subjected and dejected. At a tender age, experiencing the worst wasn't so healthy for my state of mind. What kept me going was my thought. 'As soon as I turn 18, I will leave here, get a job, make enough money and stay as far away as possible from hurtful people.' Those were the only things that kept me alive.

In my foster home, we are a total of twenty-five kids and at least two more are added weekly. It is not a bad place but some people in it make it seem so. The house is not so big but large enough for all of us and the newly added kids. We eat properly except when the stronger kids take your ration. For clothing we wear mostly donated clothes and shoes and, a few, the buy.  I have four clothes. One for school, one for very special occasions, not that any happens though, one to wear around the house and the last one for the chapel. I got and still get more than four pieces of clothing but the stronger kids take them away from us to resell or wear. You cannot do anything because it will get more ugly.

Here in my foster home, chores are divided equally. But, the chores the boys did are different and harsh than the ones the girls did. Whatever way it went, most of the boys bullied me into doing mine and theirs for them. So, it will be safe to say that I did most of the chores meant for the boys. The cooking is done by Mrs. Wales and rotated amongst the girls. Other things that the girls do include; knitting sweaters, cleaning the kitchen, grocery shopping with Mrs. Wales and any other minimal chores around the house. While the boys clean the toilets and bathroom, provide firewood, and do any other heavy-duty chores around the house. Most times the boys are supervised by Mr. Wales.

I keep moving from one chore to the other, even if I didn't want to. Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Wales would be furious if they learnt of the rearrangement made by the stronger boys. "If." But to stay alive you dare not make them find out. You have to swallow whatever pin and needle that was pricking your throat. If not, it would be better for a sharp knife to cut your skin than what these boys would do to you. From intentionally stoning you to putting your head in the toilet and flushing it while your head is stuck there, and cornering you in a lonely and dark place then beat the living daylight out of you. I did not even think of snitching because I was always their favourite target to beat to a pulp.

Beating and abuse were as normal as breakfast here. Who would you report to? Except for poor Mr. and Mrs. Wales, who sometimes could only talk and do nothing else. At the end of the day, your beating gets doubled and it would have been better if you had kept quiet. Being the weakest I suffered all these the most. Most times, the boys did not even have to stress about threatening me into keeping quiet, I did so myself. I had to constantly remind myself of the punches, denial of breakfast, lunch and dinner, being scared to death and other bad things that I would get if I didn't keep my mouth shut

At age seven, I was already exposed to abuse and torment. Thinking of the fact that I had eleven more years before I can break free, didn't help my mental health. But of course, who could I blame? No one! The only thing that made me not give up was the fact that, once I was able to take care of myself, that I would run away from this hellhound to a better place. Then I'll work so hard to make a lot of money so that I can stay away from abusive people and unhappy environments. It wasn't going to be easy but it was better than getting comfortable with a place like this.

Even with the bad things, I was still grateful that I got a roof over my head, food and people that somehow cared about me. I couldn't blame anyone for my fate except for fate itself. It played a cruel game on me. Out of everyone on earth I had to be the one it chose. It didn't choose me for anything good. It chose to give me a disgusting mark, a slender physique and an easily scared personality. If I was in a wolf pack I would be classified as the beta A.K.A the b***h. If my parents could dump me in a dumpster, who else was I expecting to do better for me?

Learning that I was only a few months when I was discovered close to a trash bin, gained me popularity in the foster home. But of course, it did that in a bad way. I was nicknamed, 'The Trash Bin Baby or TBB,' for short. It even took some kids a long time to learn my name. It was always TBB instead of Mael. My parents obviously could not deal with the hideous birthmark on my back. Maybe they were mocked about it or it brought them misfortune. One way or the other, I am pretty sure that is the reason they got rid of me. What other reason could they have had? Maybe the were happy about my birth at first and later on, all that love turned into hate and they decided to do away with me. That is the only thing my mind can think of. At least they had the conscience to only dump me close to a trash bin and not toss me into the river or feed me to some wild animal. In all, I am still grateful that I was found.

A typical day here in the foster home is, first, wake up, say your prayers and make your bed. Secondly, brush your teeth, answer the call of nature and shower. Third, go down for breakfast or whatever is left of it, do your dishes and arrange the dining. Lastly, on to your chores. Hahaha! Very funny. That is how you would expect it to go but that isn't the way it is. For breakfast, you need to pray that your ration has not been taken by someone cruel or else, you'll be starving till lunch. And if the same thing happens at lunch, till dinner. And if it is the same case with dinner, you would be starving the whole day. It is not starving but you'll work on an empty stomach. This is not the doing of our foster parents but the doing of kids like Henry the gang leader and his sheepish followers who are, Simon, David, Mark, Garry, Aaron, Duty, Savon, and the twins, Switch and Squeeze. I am still wondering who gave the twins such dumb names. But their names aren't the only dumb things but all around, they are dumb. The dumbest is their leader Henry but he is the strongest. The rest of his boys does not have a problem with his leadership since he has the muscle. This has been the circle in here. I am twelve and not much has changed with Henry and his gang, with me and the rest of the kids. It is the same routine every day. Nothing new or intriguing.

"You stepped on my shoes." Henry roars one of the afternoons that Mr. and Mrs. Wales went into town to get supplies.

Today, we all know that something would happen. Either I or some other poor kid gets beaten up or, if we get lucky enough and Henry is in a good mood, I will just be his favourite pastime today until Mr. and Mrs. Wales return. And his torment will be mild. But now that some kid has stepped on his sho, but of a truth, that is just a poor kid that has entered into the wrong circus of Henry's show. This afternoon isn't going to be a smooth one. Someone is going to end up hurt.

"I am sorry. So sorry, Henry," a fragile-looking kid wearing spectacle apologises.

"What is your sorry going to do for me?"

"Should I clean it?" Already bending to clean it with trembling hands.

"Don't touch me! Get away from me!"

The boy makes for a run, "stop right there." Henry says. "On second thought, you clean my shoe. That will teach you to watch where you are going next time. If your glasses aren't good, get a new one or I'll gouge out your eyes." He threatens, poking the poor boy's forehead. "Clean! Shoe! Now!"

The boy brings out his neat handkerchief and makes for Henry's shoe, but Henry withdraws his leg and tramples on the boy's hand that he placed flat on the floor while he was trying to clean Henry's shoe.

"Aaaaahhhhh," screaming out in agony, he begins to cry.

Henry keeps his leg on the boy's hand with all his weight for a full minute, squashing and tempting his leg as he stays put.

"Truce, are you okay?" A female voice asks in a rush but dies down immediately. I guess it is a result of fear, seeing who the tyrant is.

"Did I hear a voice? Does someone want to take his position? Speak up and come forward!" Henry barks like he is the ruler of the foster home. "Well, I didn't think so."

Well, technically he is. As Mr. and Mrs. Wale has gone into town to buy supplies for the home, Henry has put himself in charge. He is not the oldest but he is by far the meanest. The older kids have problems of their own and they didn't care to interfere. Once we report to one of them and he said, "yeah, you have to go through shits like that to build you up. We can't do much and do not want to interfere. There is always a bully in every circle. Word of advice, don't be the weak one and do not draw attention to yourself. Do those two and you will survive. It isn't always that bad and you will not remain at the bottom. One day y'all will outgrow stuff like that." That, he said to us.

We saw it as useless to keep going to them as we know in getting the same response all the time. They weren't just concerned if we lived or not. 

We always prayed for our deaths whenever Mr. and Mrs. Wales is going out of town because Henry would always find someone to pick on. And he wouldn't stop until either he loose's interest in his toy thing or the person gets adopted. It had to be one out of the two reasons if not he wants to give up and he is bent on making life hell for the unfortunate soul within his grasp.

"Truce. That is your name. Right?"

"Yes," Truce answered in between sons.

"How come I have not seen your stupid face before. I usually spot people with faces like yours immediately. Oh, you have been hiding from me. Right?" He moves his feet under Truce's hand.

"No, I want hiding. I just keep to myself." He sobs, trying to get his hand out of Henry's torment.

"Did you honestly think that I'll allow you to touch my shoe with that dirty handkerchief of yours?" Removing his leg after he has seen that the boy's fingers are broken and one of them is bleeding from the twist and turn of his shoe. "Use your tongue you fool."

Truce stood unmoved when Henry said that. It is either what he is saying does not make sense to Truce or he is finding it difficult to comprehend.

"I know that you are half-blind. Are you also now deaf? Or you are or tending to be? Get down on your knees and lick clean my shoes that you stepped on. Immediately!"

"I can't do that." Truce says, what he said came out more as a mumble than proper words.

"Say what? Couldn't hear a word that you just muttered." Henry grabs Truce by the collar and heads out away from the murmuring group of kids who have gathered around. His gang follows him behind.

"We fear for him." Jude, one of the smaller kids says.

"Who knows what he will do to him." Another says.

"Whatever he is going to do is no good." Another reply.

They were right. It is better to be dealt with in front of everyone by Henry despite the shame. Getting dragged away by him wasn't in any way a good thing.

"One time a girl stood up to him, he kept dealing with the girl until he drove her to almost committing suicide. The girl's name was Victorious, I think. And she was a chronic asthmatic patient." Victor says.

"Was?"Jude asks.

"Yes, was. She got lucky and was adopted a year later. The last I heard she was doing so well. The family that adopted her is so wealthy and loves her. So I heard."

Victor is the storyteller of the home. He is the kid to go to when you want to find out anything. He is everywhere at all times and to crown it all, he is invisible. Whoever matters in the home, Victor worked his way to be on the person's good side.

"So what did Henry do to her?" Michael who is getting interested in the story asks.

"Ah, yes." Readjusting his oversized trousers, "Henry and his gang would deliberately get her into the barn which has a lot of dust in it then take away her inhaler. She would cough and cough until she nears the point of not being able to breathe then they will toss it to the ground. They will make sure it was far from her reach. I think their goal was to kill her because no one with a human mind would do that. But there was a rumour." He tries to walk away but is stopped by Jude who was holding him by the waist.

If there is anything that Victor loves, it is to be the center of attraction and people begging him to finish a story that he has already started. He has a keeping people in suspense and interested in his story.

"Where do you think that you are going to?" Jude asks him.

"You know, to find out what they are doing to Truce."

"What was the rumour about Victorious and Henry?" Michael whispers into his ear inquisitively.

"That he was in love with her."

Jude, Michael and the other kids gasp in shock. "Is that even possible?" Michael asks.

"Does he have a heart for that?" Jude asks.

"Hey! Hey! Don't ask me. Ask him." Victor barks. "But there seemed to be a truth to that rumour." He cools.

"How so?" Jude asked.

"Victor doesn't usually pick on girls. Even if he did it wasn't severe as he did with Victorious. Initially, he bullied her like he did with every other kid but it got intense. I think it is after she rejected him. It was said that she didn't just reject him but also told him that he would never be loved because he wasn't with it, not with a heart like his."

"Wow, she was bold."

"Yes, she was but almost died because of her boldness. He did everything inhumane to her. Scared her, took away her good, made her sleep on the floor, made her do hard works meant for the boys and no dared to talk or be her friend. She was alone."

"So, how did he drive her to almost committing suicide?" A fourth kid asked. Everyone is so interested in the story that they didn't notice that another kid has joined the circle for long.

"Who are you?" Victor asks.

"Isaac, am among the kids that came in last week. Nice to meet you all."

"Well, everything he was doing got to her and she couldn't take it any longer so she went to the rooftop of the chapel and jumped from it. Luckily, she survived but of course with a lot of broken bones."

"And Henry was still not punished?" Isaac asks.

Laughing, "a word of advice Issac, as the older kids would say, make sure that you are not singled out or the weak one. Do that and you will survive."

"If what you say is true, it is scary to be here," Isaac whines like a wounded puppy.

I laughed so hard that all attention turned to me before I realise that I had been laughing. "Sorry," I say apologetically.

"What is so funny, TBB?" Victor asks.

"Nothing. Sorry." I compose myself.

Like I earlier said I am the outcast and of course, naturally I am not part of the people that Victor is telling the story to but I could hear them loud and clear. If what they are doing is telling a story in a low tune or sharing a secret amongst themselves, they're doing a terrible job. So terrible that by now they would be dead if Henry was around.

Back to why I laughed. Yes. Isaac is still saying 'it is scary to be here.' He doesn't know anything yet. If I am close to him, I would have screamed, "Isaac, run. Jump the fence. Get as far away as possible from here. It is hell to be here. And nothing can be done about it. As the day breaks, it gets worse." No one with a choice would want to be here. But we don't always get what we want. I pity Isaac. He is new to all this. How will he work his way to the top? To be on the good side of the boys that matters or join their gang, he has to do extra. Which I wasn't so sure that he is prepared. How would he be able to juggle between breakfast and chores? I wish I have the power to save them from this experience. I wish I could equally save myself from it too. They are kids and I am a kid but I feel I need to save us all.

"So, there is no justice of any kind here?" Isaac asks.

This kid keeps making me laugh. What does he think this place is? A judicial house? It is foster care for crying out loud.

"There is all that but Henry would make sure that you do not have ana shred of evidence against him and if there is no evidence, you do not have a case. He will even make sure that you can't have the courage to speak up. That was the case to Victorious. The case was presented but dismissed because it was a case without evidence, witnesses or fact. He was free and she wasn't. She couldn't move around freely because of fear of what might happen to her if she crossed paths with him. It got serious that she had to be moved to a ward where she received therapy."

"What a sad story. And for life, she is messed up unless she fights her demons." Jude sadly says.

"Yes..." Victor gets cut off from finishing his sentence when kids begin to move away and mumble, "He is back." One kid says referring to Henry who is steaming and sweating as if he just finished a heavyweight champion. "What did they do to him?" Another kid asks referring to Truce who is no were to be seen.

Kids scramble into hiding or pretend to be occupied. No one dares to check on Truce or walk in the direction that he is. Deep down I want to but can't. I already have a lot on my plate and the last thing I need is to add this one.

"TBB, come here!" Henry screams. As if he read my mind. What I am avoiding is what is calling my name. How would I escape this?

"Grab the cleaning supplies and go clean the toilets. I forgot that it is my turn to clean the toilet. Be a good boy and make them sparkle." Twitching his eyes in pretence like he cares," you will do that for me, right?" Slapping me hard on the cheeks.

"Yes," I responded.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'll do it.'

"Good dogy," he laughed with his gang before leaving to go and do no good.

'You see him," a kid said whispering as I pass, "do everything possible to avoid him. Don't go anywhere close to him."

"Why?" Another kid asks.

"Because he brings nothing but bad luck and I don't think you would want to deal with that."

What they were saying didn't hurt any longer. I am used to hushing and whisper from every corner of the home. I made peace with it a long time ago

I walk to the bathroom and start working my way from the first. There are four bathrooms and four toilets. One for the boys, one for the girls, another for Mr. and Mrs. Wales and last for visitors. We hardly have any so that last one is mostly kept clean and locked. The same thing goes for the toilets. They are always kept clean at all times. Mrs. Wales hates untidy and dirty places. Apart from the convince, every corner of the house received equal cleaning and tidying.

Finishing with the first, second and proceeding to the third toilet, I hear low coughing. It is so low that without listening attentively you can barely hear it. "That must be Truce," I thought to myself. Quickly, I open the door ajar. I almost cry at what I see. Truce is lying barely even conscious, his white shirt soaked with blood, his hair and face wet and bleeding, he is grunting in pain.

"Truce, can you hear me?"

I get no response from him. His eyes are closing. It looks like he is going to pass out any moment. I try to lift him, but who was I kidding? My weight could not carry his because I did not have that stamina. I try one more time and we fall back on the floor. I am not giving up on him. I've to find a way to take him out of here to a place where he can get help. Still struggling with myself and him, I hear the first toilet flushing. Someone is in here. Maybe he or she could help me. Poking out my head, I saw an unfamiliar face. He must be new here. Very handsome, from his body I could tell that he is older. Tall and composed, he looks like the change we have been waiting for.

"Hi," I mumble.

He looks at me once, twice and ignores me. He tries to walk out the door but I stop him.

"Please, help me take him out of here to where I can get help to him. He is badly hurt and might pass out at any moment if he does not get medical attention. Please." I beg him without minding who he is.

"Where is he?" He asks leading the way to where his instinct directs him to.

"The third toilet," I answer him from behind.

He opens the door and without asking for my help it anything, he puts Truce on his back and hurries out. I had to increase my pace to catch up with him. He is so energetic and strong. Although he looked a year older, he is more fit. Causally carrying Truce that I couldn't lift, that is amazing.

"What happened to him? Why is he this hurt?" The new kid questions through clenched teeth. From his tone, I could tell that he isn't sitting well with me not replying to him.

I go over the thousands of excuses, explanations and answers forming in my head. I have to be careful. I didn't know if he is part of Henry's gang checking for snitches. If he is in Henry's gang and I give one wrong answer, be rest assured that I wouldn't see the sunrise tomorrow.

"Didn't you hear me, kid? What happened to him?" He asks again.

I had a thing against lies. I wasn't good at telling one. You can easily make me out when I am telling a lie because my body will betray me. Whatever the consequences of saying this truth would be, I am prepared for it. "He was beaten up."

"You mean to tell me that a kid did this to his fellow kid? In this home?"

"Yes."

Dead silence. He says nothing else and did not ask further questions until we got to the clinic. The clinic wasn't officially a clinic but it is somewhere that we manage and emergencies are taken care of until either Mr. Wales or Mrs. Wales take us to a proper hospital. For now, it is Mrs. Wales sister, Aunt Veronica that took care of us. She is a professional nurse who works in one of those big hospitals in the city. She took out time to always be available for us most times. One room in the foster home was brought out as a clinic. It has the basic things needed that as emergency kits until we reach for 911 or get taken to the hospital. She has been around for as long as I can remember. Pretty, chubby, pale, and friendly. She looks to be around her early thirties. For once, I never felt bad when I am around her. In fact, I forget about everything else and just relax when I am around her. She is one of my best memory here. Always reserving chocolates for when I visit the clinic. Sometimes I went there without any need to but because of her kindness and of course the chocolate that she gives me. One mysterious thing is that she doesn't talk about her life much. No one knows if she is married or not. Nothing about her is known to us. Maybe her sister, Mrs. Wales would know but she would never give out such information and you dare not ask. I wish I knew something about her.

We got to the clinic and Aunt Veronica is already dressed to go out. Immediately she sees us, she helps the new kid lay Truce on the small bed. By now he is barely conscious.

"What happened to him?"

"He was beaten." The new kid says in anger, spitting every word with hatred. He did not even give me the chance to speak.

"I'll just have to manage him until 911 gets here." She gets some medical equipment from the top drawer of the cabinet that held the first aid kit, "you both can go. Thank you so much."

"I want to stay," says the new kid. "In case you need help with him.'

" I'll be just fine. You may go."

Reluctantly he leaves angrily and I follow behind him.

There is something about him that speaks danger and kindness at the same time. Why is he so angry about this when it is barely his business?

"What is your name?" I ask.

"My name is irrelevant. It wouldn't have justice to that poor kid. I know the likes of the kid that did that to him. They ain't stopping there until they drive him insane." He rants as he walks towards the boys quarter. "What is the name of their gang leader?" He pauses briefly and asks.

How did he know that there is a gang leader? Has been one before? Did he do this to kids before? I meaning considering how physically fit he is, I wouldn't doubt if he was or is a bully. I dare not ask those questions running in my head. Not because I was scared or didn't have the courage to, but because I didn't want to warn a punch to my throat.

"One thing I hate is repeating myself. What is his name?" He starred at me with so much heat and anger reflecting in his eyes. For what it is worth, we need to pray for this one. Who knows what he is made of. At least, Henry, we know but this one, I don't even know his name.

Tell me about it. I think this guy is going to be worse than Henry. "Henry," I blurt out.

He storms the boys quarter, "who amongst you is Henry?"

A few seconds later, Henry who is sitting on the back of another poor kid stretches himself, stands, yawns, "I am. Who is asking?"

"You are." The new kid repeats.

The next thing I see is a punch to Henry's face. It doesn't end there he throws two other punches and then stops, "listen up, you good for nothing, things are about to change. I am in charge and what I say goes. Do you understand me?" He barks.

"Yes!" The boys reply.

Henry is still staggering, trying to regain his ground from the punches he just received. He is holding his bleeding nose which looks broken.

I was happy but not so happy, violence is not the way out. What difference is this new kid from Henry? But somehow, someone needed to stand up to Henry and teach him a lesson.  Who is this new kid?