What villainess am I?

Chapter 1

Control, we as humans often forget how much we control. As I stare, strained to remember else but the object in front of my eyes, I contemplate such quaint confusion. Think about it, just the action of flexing one's hand takes such dexterity that one never considers at age, as it is just... Done. Looking down I see my own, pudgy hand; Attempting to flex it I wish to cringe, as barely any movement of my own I can control appears in it. I flop my hand down at my side, I stare up and lift my head. Barely at all does it move, the weight is so great. I hold, attempting to count, before it lands again into the soft bedding I rest in. I groan as I fail to hold my head for any meaningful length of time. Staring up my vision darts from an object to a light source, item, and wind... All unwilling on my part: my head, as it was, became pained as I strained to focus on any object at all in any length.

I sigh, my vision becomes a blur as I try to focus on exercise, any at all to fix my state. I then hear a noise, rolling my head I see, blurry as it was, a woman come to my side. Picking me up she shushes and rocks me. Her face is very pretty, I think. My hand reflexively reaches out, and I curse in my heart as it does so. She, for her part, chuckles before speaking unintelligible words, gibberish as she moves her fingers above my head.

One cannot truly appreciate how it is man can move when left at the proper age. To not be in such a state as to require another, to walk, to run... I... I cannot tell how it burns my heart to think I must wait to reach that. The lady who holds me rocks me and I smile in response in kind; I suppose The lady is nothing special; her hair is hard to make out at this distance, but it is about auburn or red. She speaks with a warm tone and never is too loud. I enjoy her company in these times, even as I am sad to force her to partake in... Unmentionable acts. I am ashamed to even think of what must be done for a baby, having been in such a place.

She is courteous, however, and she even will rest with me as I loll myself in her arms. Relaxed, and kind. I wish I knew her name, but I can presume her a wet nurse; the nature of my care suggests such nature. Dressed in a gown so heavy it makes me wish I'd never woke to feel it. It feels as if another layer of blankets is on top of me, even as I rest now I can say I've lost weight from how much I've perspired. As well, if not dressed in a gown I am placed in a massive clothe with a board strapped at my sides. I would say that is the most humiliating thing I've ever done to me, but then I'd be called a liar. I digress.

Control, as I said, is something humans have in great abundance. Where we go, how we act, and what we buy, are all in our hands. Yet, we can often be constrained by ourselves; One day I'll enact such things, but now we must consider the times of life when we have no such control. As I lay, hanging across the lady, I could not move my arm with any sense of good action. My eyes only focus on her face in small spurts, and when I look away I forget her presence. I try to speak, and nothing but garbled slop accentuates my nature as a child. It... I cannot tell you how much I wish to have changed my choice if I was to know my start was to be this. Who would? I can't move, I cannot speak, I cannot see; not in a way I wish anyway. My hands move without my input, and my feet kick in strange intervals. I wish for this hell to end, and yet... The Gods give me blessings each night, a reminder to keep well and strong for these days ahead. Sleep is my greatest reprieve, where I can dream the longest of dreams, see the sights of my memories, and hear the sounds of my wishes.

I rest myself to the woman's breast, her shoulder too far for my head to reach. My breathing slows, and so my dreams take me. I hope, and wish, that this will end my nightmare in flesh, but it will not... I wait till it comes, my freedom.

---

Two months, I suppose. How long I've been here, it worries me that so infrequently I've come to contemplate alone now. Though I do not place it beyond myself, being swarmed over by gifts now and again or being shown off to people I can't remember is exhausting, and never a moment of peace. Though, now that I am given such peace I can't help but wonder why. Why can't I be free yet, yes yes age and growth are such factors; However, what is stopping me from reaching a higher power? What is it that halts my memory, my actions, my very words? Seen in so many ideas of such a fate I hopped to act at least in some way, but even now I cannot crawl or move my arms as I wish. Now I can at least grip some things, but barely. My ears have heard so much, yet not one of them I could understand. I asked, one time if the gods could offer my knowledge of the words, and they simply laughed! Laughed, at me! I was so distraught tears welled in my eyes, I couldn't explain it but I was so enraged at the dismissal of my words.