My son was born premature, weighing a measly 1.4 kilograms. He was supposed to be dead, or so the degrading doctors told me. They told me if I didn’t remove the sickly baby from my womb immediately, there was a high risk that both of us wouldn’t survive childbirth. I declined- I would rather be dead than have to continue life with a much awaited, but dead, child. You can imagine my relief when Henry entered the world, his chest slowly rising and falling.
My husband Nikolai and I had polar opposite reactions. Whilst my beam was plastered on my face, he looked neutral and somewhat crabby. I asked him what was on his mind, but he refused to reply. I assumed he had just taken a swig of alcohol. Despite a plethora of rehab sessions and everyone’s strict restrictions and anxiousness, he continued to drink just as much as he did when he was a fresh alcoholic. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as it got him drunk, because not only could he cancel off his own life, but he stopped being so utterly vexatious. His bad habits caused many to dislike him, but I stood by his side, hoping one day we would prove everyone wrong. I’ve been waiting 4 years.
After several weeks, Henry was finally released from the NICU. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. He was a perfect mix between Nikolai and I, obtaining the best features of both. My green eyes, rosy cheeks and plump lips paired with my husband’s thick tustled brown hair, button nose and irresistible bone structure. I excitedly ran to the parking lot, infant firmly pressed to my chest. I couldn’t wait to reach home and show Nikolai the newest member of the family. I furiously jangled the keys in the front door and threw it open, quickly grabbing all the attention. “Nik!!” I called. Gratefully, he was sitting in his armchair, writing in his old, leatherbound book. The thing with Nikolai was that there were only two things he loved. Horror stories and booze. It’s a rough suggestion, but I’m sure I would never be his proper lover. I had only met him in the club, and he was close to passing out when we hooked up. That night, I could smell beer, but particularly, love at first sight. We exchanged our phone numbers and 7 dates later, he proposed to me. I glanced at the substantial diamond sitting on my ring finger. Neither of us were wealthy enough to spend money on such a valuable posession, and I still wince thinking about how he obtained it. Nevermind that, I thought. I cautiously ambled towards Nik, and he stood up with a poker face. I smiled, perhaps he could accept one more thing in his life. He stared the child down, looking straight through the innocent face. At last, he raised his hand and smacked it hard, sending it flying from my hands down to the hardwood floors. Henry wailed and wailed, his face contorting into a distressed expression.
I gaped in astonishment and began screaming at Nik. I couldn’t believe what he had just done. Nik stood beside the baby, tilted his head and went into the kitchen. Cupboards were opened and he came back clutching a bottle of whiskey. He popped the cap with his teeth and looked me dead in the eye. “Katalina, you either abandon the child or I abandon you”. At that moment, I picked up the injured infant and fled.
On Henry’s second birthday, I began noticing multiple changes. He appeared to have spider veins on his legs, arms and abdomen and his skin had a faint tinge of green. His teeth resembled the fangs of a vampire but his voice remained soft and innocent. “Mama, I’m hungryyyyyyy” he would say, grabbing my leg and humming an eerie tune. Chuckling, I’d fix him a small plate of peas, carrots and chicken and he’d scoff it down, grunting and licking his lips. I never took notice of the fact that white, bubbly foam would run down his mouth down to his shirt everytime he ate. I wish I had. On his birthday, I decided to surprise him with a rich chocolate scone. He had never had one, and I prayed he would enjoy it just as much as he enjoys his now gone father’s horror novels as bedtime stories. I served it to him and he hesitantly prodded the pastry with his chubby fingers, then dipped his fingertio in the chocolate glaze. He sucked on it for a while, then wrinkled his nose and tilted his head. He made funny noises, and then ate the rest of the scone within a few minutes. “Yummy?” I cooed. He grinded his teeth- a smile. Laughing, I picked him up and set him down on the sofa so I could watch him as I did the washing up. He slept to a recording of “The Nightmarish Stalker” .
Almost 2 years later, I was extremely anxious. Henry now had slits for pupils, faded purple eyes and a few of his fingers had gone up in flames and all that was left were ashes. He had scared me. Just the week before I crept up on him and saw him lying in bed, reciting:
“Lizzie Borden Took an axe, And gave her mother forty whacks. When she saw what she had done, She have her father forty-one..”
I gasped in astonishment. I had never spoken of Lizzie, and he had no books mentioning her. How would he know? That was when I decided to print out and sign some important documents. The child didn’t need to stay. I would disown him as soon as I could.
Once his 4th birthday rolled up, I was close to fainting. Henry had grown bright red horns that stuck up through his hair. He had a large black marking on his face, which looked like a intricately carved serpent. I paused waking him up- clearly, he want human. Nik was right. I should’ve abandoned him. By the looks of it, this “innocent” child could kill me and would probably never get caught. Gulping, I ran back to the kitchen and instead of giving him his usual cup of cold milk, I added something extra. It would be defined as an extra strong sleeping pill for insomniacs like me. I slowly woke Henry up, and passed him his cup, telling him to drink it all up. Gratefully, he did so. After packing all the legal documents in a folder in a tote bag, I grabbed my keys, wallet and coffee, then picked up my unconscious Henry and headed to my beaten up Toyota. I clicked my cat keys and it beeped in response. I carefully put Henry down in the backseat on the booster chair, and once the car engine was started up, I set out for a 46km drive.
It was lovely, really. No creepy sounds, no frightening rhymes and no distractions. Just me, Katalina Starchovski, driving to the orphanage. I was done with this Satan spawn I birthed. When I finally reached the destination, I decided to bring the maiden over to my car instead of me bringing it too her. She would be much too shocked. It was a fail, though. The maiden took one glance at Henry, screeched and left. I was distraught. There was no way I could keep him. Then I thought of something. I loosely held the toddler in my arms, ran to the bushes behind the orphanage and threw him down- hard. I just had to relocate Nik. He was right after all. Was I wrong for abandoning and possibly murdering my 4 year old, creepy child?