02-27-2022, 01:41 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-18-2022, 07:19 PM by Menachem Meijer.)
[Cw: injury and just cruelty]
How did this happen. Who did he anger in the universe to put Menachem in such a state. He had a family that had been cruel to him, especially that brother of his who seemed to think his own reason for being in the world was to torment him. He disliked his strict family who couldn't be pleased with a merely average child, and he disliked this country that ruined his life for a crime he didn't comment. But for now, curse this town...
And the hole he was literally in.
He had been humiliated but his life had been humbled since he got out of jail, perhaps even before. He was working on a farm just outside of town, sometimes chopping wood or whatever manual labor they needed. He was being paid complete shit. But it was something, and he was able to pay for the small inn, since his family had cut him off. He didn't even know his baby brother had gotten married and had his son. He didn't want to see any family, he was hoping to eventually dig him out of his current state, metaphorically.
He had been trying to feel better about doing something that no one could think badly of. He had even worked late that day to do a good job and try to show he was better than others thought of him. But that was such a mistake. He'd wandered home on a dark night and gotten mixed up. Next thing he knew, the ground below him disappeared and he fell.
Now, he'd been here for days. He didn't even know where he was, but someone did. His body was pure pain, he was starving and grateful it had rained. The lack of smelling rot made him hopeful that the fading pain in his broken leg wasn't from it dying. Maybe it was healing or he was getting used to it. He hadn't prayed in a long time, but now he did. He didn't want to die in that fucking hole, and he didn't want to lose his damned leg. Even after managing to free any fallen rocks off of himself, he couldn't see his condition and he couldn't climb out. He had even cried when it was dark and no one could see or hear him.
From when he first fell and woke up, he'd tried to call for help. When day time came, he tried again, and it was his quickly becoming hopeless screams for help that had brought the boys. Little bastards. He saw the boys' faces pop up over head on day ...two? Three? They'd laugh at him and shout or throw disgusting shit at him. Sometimes, they tossed him food though so he wouldn't die and the game would last longer. He never hated kids more than now, and that was really saying something.
He was slowly starting to think he would just die here, and hoped his ghost would appear to drag these kids to some sort of punishment when he heard a voice. It wasn't a child and he started to call out again. Though his voice was weak now and barely loud enough to be heard above the hole.
How did this happen. Who did he anger in the universe to put Menachem in such a state. He had a family that had been cruel to him, especially that brother of his who seemed to think his own reason for being in the world was to torment him. He disliked his strict family who couldn't be pleased with a merely average child, and he disliked this country that ruined his life for a crime he didn't comment. But for now, curse this town...
And the hole he was literally in.
He had been humiliated but his life had been humbled since he got out of jail, perhaps even before. He was working on a farm just outside of town, sometimes chopping wood or whatever manual labor they needed. He was being paid complete shit. But it was something, and he was able to pay for the small inn, since his family had cut him off. He didn't even know his baby brother had gotten married and had his son. He didn't want to see any family, he was hoping to eventually dig him out of his current state, metaphorically.
He had been trying to feel better about doing something that no one could think badly of. He had even worked late that day to do a good job and try to show he was better than others thought of him. But that was such a mistake. He'd wandered home on a dark night and gotten mixed up. Next thing he knew, the ground below him disappeared and he fell.
Now, he'd been here for days. He didn't even know where he was, but someone did. His body was pure pain, he was starving and grateful it had rained. The lack of smelling rot made him hopeful that the fading pain in his broken leg wasn't from it dying. Maybe it was healing or he was getting used to it. He hadn't prayed in a long time, but now he did. He didn't want to die in that fucking hole, and he didn't want to lose his damned leg. Even after managing to free any fallen rocks off of himself, he couldn't see his condition and he couldn't climb out. He had even cried when it was dark and no one could see or hear him.
From when he first fell and woke up, he'd tried to call for help. When day time came, he tried again, and it was his quickly becoming hopeless screams for help that had brought the boys. Little bastards. He saw the boys' faces pop up over head on day ...two? Three? They'd laugh at him and shout or throw disgusting shit at him. Sometimes, they tossed him food though so he wouldn't die and the game would last longer. He never hated kids more than now, and that was really saying something.
He was slowly starting to think he would just die here, and hoped his ghost would appear to drag these kids to some sort of punishment when he heard a voice. It wasn't a child and he started to call out again. Though his voice was weak now and barely loud enough to be heard above the hole.
