Post by Carrow on Jan 2, 2011 17:44:13 GMT -5
Carrow's face flushed with embarrassment when Spender removed his paw from the rodent's grasp. Of course he ferret didn't want to hear about things like this! Why else would he have tugged his paw out of Carrow's hold? Immediately he averted his gaze from Spender's. No wonder he felt uncomfortable, sitting there listening to the mouse speak like this.
If only he really knew, though, Carrow thought miserably. If only he could understand where I've been. The dark places I've visited. The sleepless nights I've had and everything else that's come with them. My instability. My awkwardness. The fact that I don't think I'll ever be that good at anything.
In truth, Spender was right. Carrow was indeed speaking as though he had been deathly ill and only pulled through just barely, but what the mustelid didn't realise was that this was in fact true. He had indeed been ill. Ill-at-ease, sick to death of his misfortune, and tired too. Tired of constantly being exhausted, unable to sleep because he was haunted by memories and plagued by nightmares...
His gaze was still fixed on the deck timbers as he heard Spender speak. Only two words, yet there was a force and a weight behind them that took his breath away. Quite literally in fact: he found himself unable to breathe for a second. There was only one other creature who had ever asked him that question. A certain weasel jill that had been his safety net and kept him from dropping into despair for as long as she could. Archie could only ever do so much. No amount of therapy, hypnotically-assisted or otherwise, could have saved him from those depths.
The wood mouse gasped to get his breath back. He was as white as a sheet now, and his paws were clenching and unclenching in a visibly nervous manner. "'They', Spender... well, when I say that, I... mean a number of other creatures at the school I went to when I was younger... there were..." He exhaled forcibly, knowing how persistent Spender could be. There was no other way out. He had to confront his demons.
"There were ten of them. Two rats, three foxes, a wolf, two shrews, a vole and a panther. I could tell you their names if you wanted, but I'm not sure I'd be able to stand it. All I know is I doubt I'll ever forget them until the day I die. This group, in particular, were the ones that picked on me the most. They... they destroyed the life I had then, and to this day I can scarcely believe I managed to build anything from it..."
He gasped again, feeling a tightening around his throat even as he spoke. He'd need all the strength he could muster to get the words out, it seemed. "Most of them would engage in insults... telling me I was weak and worthless... that I was an inferior creature just because I was a mouse"- here, Carrow had to suppress an urge to stare pointedly into Spender's eyes - "they gave me grief about my parents... mocked me because I had been orphaned... they called me everything under the sun.
"Then there were three of those who started physically abusing me when I was eight... pushing me over in the corridors... ramming me up against the wall, sometimes slapping me. They were careful never to leave any bruises back then, but... I could see hatred in their eyes... pure hatred... It was the panther, the wolf... and..." A tremor ran through the distressed mouse now, his next words coming in a whisper. "The rat...
"They wanted me gone, for the simple reason that I was weak and couldn't stand up for myself. They were right on both counts... and I'm not sure if anything's changed since then..." The tears began flowing again, the rodent rendered helpless before his emotional trauma, unable to stop himself. "The three of them attacked me in a full-on assault... they left me unconscious, unable to move and c... cursing the fact that I had ever been born..." He turned away, partly to let the final part of the puzzle fall into place, and partly because he didn't want a creature like Spender to see him like this. "They gave me plenty of scars... the physical ones healed... but my mind has been scarred too... and sometimes I wonder if it will ever recover..." Burying his face in his paws, Carrow broke down sobbing. Once again, he was all at sea.
If only he really knew, though, Carrow thought miserably. If only he could understand where I've been. The dark places I've visited. The sleepless nights I've had and everything else that's come with them. My instability. My awkwardness. The fact that I don't think I'll ever be that good at anything.
In truth, Spender was right. Carrow was indeed speaking as though he had been deathly ill and only pulled through just barely, but what the mustelid didn't realise was that this was in fact true. He had indeed been ill. Ill-at-ease, sick to death of his misfortune, and tired too. Tired of constantly being exhausted, unable to sleep because he was haunted by memories and plagued by nightmares...
His gaze was still fixed on the deck timbers as he heard Spender speak. Only two words, yet there was a force and a weight behind them that took his breath away. Quite literally in fact: he found himself unable to breathe for a second. There was only one other creature who had ever asked him that question. A certain weasel jill that had been his safety net and kept him from dropping into despair for as long as she could. Archie could only ever do so much. No amount of therapy, hypnotically-assisted or otherwise, could have saved him from those depths.
The wood mouse gasped to get his breath back. He was as white as a sheet now, and his paws were clenching and unclenching in a visibly nervous manner. "'They', Spender... well, when I say that, I... mean a number of other creatures at the school I went to when I was younger... there were..." He exhaled forcibly, knowing how persistent Spender could be. There was no other way out. He had to confront his demons.
"There were ten of them. Two rats, three foxes, a wolf, two shrews, a vole and a panther. I could tell you their names if you wanted, but I'm not sure I'd be able to stand it. All I know is I doubt I'll ever forget them until the day I die. This group, in particular, were the ones that picked on me the most. They... they destroyed the life I had then, and to this day I can scarcely believe I managed to build anything from it..."
He gasped again, feeling a tightening around his throat even as he spoke. He'd need all the strength he could muster to get the words out, it seemed. "Most of them would engage in insults... telling me I was weak and worthless... that I was an inferior creature just because I was a mouse"- here, Carrow had to suppress an urge to stare pointedly into Spender's eyes - "they gave me grief about my parents... mocked me because I had been orphaned... they called me everything under the sun.
"Then there were three of those who started physically abusing me when I was eight... pushing me over in the corridors... ramming me up against the wall, sometimes slapping me. They were careful never to leave any bruises back then, but... I could see hatred in their eyes... pure hatred... It was the panther, the wolf... and..." A tremor ran through the distressed mouse now, his next words coming in a whisper. "The rat...
"They wanted me gone, for the simple reason that I was weak and couldn't stand up for myself. They were right on both counts... and I'm not sure if anything's changed since then..." The tears began flowing again, the rodent rendered helpless before his emotional trauma, unable to stop himself. "The three of them attacked me in a full-on assault... they left me unconscious, unable to move and c... cursing the fact that I had ever been born..." He turned away, partly to let the final part of the puzzle fall into place, and partly because he didn't want a creature like Spender to see him like this. "They gave me plenty of scars... the physical ones healed... but my mind has been scarred too... and sometimes I wonder if it will ever recover..." Burying his face in his paws, Carrow broke down sobbing. Once again, he was all at sea.