Part 1My Bloodied Mother Rescued Me From The Depths

My mom is a madwoman, and ever since I can remember, she’s forced me to pretend I’m mute.

She calls me her son, binds my chest with strips of cloth, makes me stand up to pee, and even chains me at home like a dog.

When I was eleven, Virgil Thompson, the village chief, brought over four relatives to spend the night with my mother.

The bed creaked wildly, and Virgil joked, “What a shame that the mute one isn’t a girl. Then we could all get some fun out of it and have her give us each a kid.”

And right then, I felt a rush of warmth between my legs.

That was my first orgasm.

The woods were thick with mosquitoes, and by the time I got back from picking berries, my skin was covered in itchy red bumps.

It was a lively day in the village. Aunt Martha and Aunt Jean had both given birth. By the time I got back, it was all over, and there were two tiny, wrinkled bundles left behind.

The midwife lifted Aunt Martha’s baby and announced, “A boy!”

Everyone cheered.

She then raised Aunt Jean’s child and said, “Another money drain!”

Old Man Lee’s face darkened immediately. He lifted the squalling little girl by one foot, squinting at her. “Ugly thing,” he muttered.

“Ha!” Virgil Thompson laughed. “What can you expect from a woman you bought for five hundred bucks? Might as well drown her and save some grain.”

Mr. Dean Rivers, the teacher, chimed in, “You know, the only decent woman left in this village is that madwoman’s daughter. Too bad she’s broken beyond repair. Look at the mute one’s face, though – not even grown yet, but there’s already a hint of her mom’s sassiness.”

Right then, he spotted me and waved. “Hey, Mute, come over here! Got some food for you!”

The stone table near the village gate was piled with fresh bread rolls. I couldn’t hold back my drool, so I put down my basket and walked over.

Mr. Dean Rivers handed me the crying baby girl and said, “Go on, drown her. Uncle will give you half a roll.”