The Puppeteer Part 3

The Puppeteer - Heart of glass

"You know.. when I was young.. I had to study about meds and stuff.. you know why..? Of course like most of the kids I don't give a shit about study much.. just wanted to be a happy boy. Enjoying school and such. But that one day, when I saw glass splintered on the floor when my old good for nothing old man threw a bottle towards your father and we can't get him to the hospital because you see, he doesn't wanna get caught and I can't do shit about it I tried to treat him.  When I realize how dangerous things could be and no one could tend to our wounds I learn how to. So I could treated your father and myself. My ambition was to became a doctor just because of that.."

"It doesn't matter now, when that man was put on wheelchair for good because of some stupid fight he had we both ain't give any shit about it. It was was horrible condition he had that he can't even stop us when we decided to take our own ways and left. It was good to see that good for nothing withered on his wheelchair. Get drunk all he wants eh? Because we both ain't give him nothing"

William was talking, at the corner of the room, Zylen was sitting on the bed and lean against the headbed William put him on, motionless, looking so lifeless.

"Because all that matters is I got nothing to do with him anymore. And you know what? I got a surprise for you" William put down the plier, and stand up "it's done, you're going to love it"

He slowly approach the boy, "See, its a wheelchair, a perfect present for you don't you think? 

William was standing Infront of Zylen, tall and might, smile carved on his face. His eyes was bright it stare down upon the smaller figure right upon him. Expecting a reaction, a smile, a thanks, some appreciation for what he prepared for him, but he got none of it. The blond boy stay silent, body limp, just leaning on to gravity and place he was left to stay motionless. Unlike William, his only eye that shared the similar color and hue with him stay dark and dead, filled with loneliness, filled with void. Zylen might have never shared his story and feeling towards others but for other people who have saw that only eye of him might be able to tell millions of stories was hidden behind the dead stares, blocked and denied by his perpetrators. His movement and words was sealed and controlled, never been able to escape from the chain of suffering he has been forced upon to, trapped for his whole life.

William who was still unsatisfied with the treatment he got from the so claimed his lover lean down closer, slowly motioning his hand towards the pale looking boy, reaching down towards his small chin, cupping the small soft curved with his fingers and lift it up even slower, he wants to meet his eye, yet even at the same level that should secure eye contact, the poor eye was almost covered by his eyelid and eyelashes, leaving nothing but a small gap, limiting the space for his eyeball to look at nothing but what is below, locked in despair and nightmares. For someone like Zylen who had no peace during his daily life and even his night in the realm of dream, he could not tell the differences any longer, which is reality and which is not. It was confusing for him as no one could assure him or tell him he was having nightmares. Both situation and the people wether in his dream or not, did nothing but hurt him. Even sitting here as William spoke to him earlier does not capture his senses, it felt like nothing but a dream as well, and the only thing he know, what awaits him ahead is another pain as usual, as if it was normal, carved eternally in his body and head. It was even harder to figure out wether he heard of what William said or not, wether he was stuck in his mind or memories that forced him away from reality, or simply the fear or replying, swallowed by despair of wishing he was not here just to feel the unwelcoming pain.

William observed the dead eye, unmotioning, not even a blink framed by swollen skin, still red from crying last night. William pursed his lips and his fingers grip his chin a little stronger. He remember how he force the bowl towards his face, splatting him with the hot porridge, burning the skin on his face. He heard the scream, he felt how his hand weakly gripped his shirt. Yet William yank his hair, stretch him wide as he pulled his head towards his back until his face was pulled back even more than the ceiling above..and how violent he threw him to the table, letting him crush at the edge of the wood then crushed again on the hard floor. He did not mean to do it, he was swallowed by so many angers. All he heard was how the boy was sobbing poorly, trembling all over when he collected him into his arms.. he can't stop crying, even William apologize and hug him through the night. He only stop because he had fall asleep, tired.