ONLY ME

Her eyes were wide open, staring penetratingly back at me. She was in shock at the realization of what I was about to do.

I always wonder what they contemplate during this moment. Are they shocked at what is eminently about to happen? Or did they see it coming… perhaps in the darkness that lingers somewhere behind my eyes? I never see it coming either even though deep inside me, I know when I am ready for another. The thing inside me never gets satisfied… never gets its fill. It goes still but only for a time.

By Herispeak

Itire of the stare, so I move the pillow upwards, to completely cover her face. ‘It would be dark soon for her anyway and perhaps she can gain peace in that last moment without having to stare at the boyish face looking down on her,’ I tell myself.

She struggles for a little while longer and finally… her little feet stop moving and her arms fall to her side. I smile as I close her eyes and turn her head to the side,

I was just one of the many children who belonged to no one… who was lucky to be alive, yet so unlucky to have either lost or been separated from their loved ones.

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then cover her as if she was simply taking a nap.

I hobble quietly back to my bed, taking the pil- low with me and tucking it under my head as I lay down. I glance back at her. She looks peaceful asleep, only that it is an everlasting sleep, never to wake again. I smile again.

She is my sixth in the two years I have been here. I think back to my arrival at the camp. Hurt, bleeding and with injuries all over my body, no one had expected me to survive. I felt confused and lost. There was no familiar face, no one I knew and no one who knew me.

I was just one of the many children who belonged to no one… who was lucky to be alive, yet so unlucky to have either lost or been separated from their loved ones.

My wounds had healed slowly with one exception. I could no longer walk... at

least not for a long while and so someone had eventually brought a wheelchair for the 8 year old boy with sad eyes and a weak, scarred, broken body. That’s what they all thought of me… that I was a destitute, little disabled boy. But I knew the truth and one day… so would they.

I wanted to belong, in the wild, dusty vastness of the camp, I wanted to feel that someone cared but only the darkness within me embraced me. And I embraced it back. I was not just any other refugee child. I mattered and one day, they would remember me… they would say my name in fear and they would revere me. They would know who I was. That I was not to be ignored nor to be pushed to a murky, smelly, corner of the room to wallow in my own thoughts and feel- ings… only to be attended to when they felt like it.

The same weakness they thought they saw in me is the same weakness I

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saw in the 6. They were tinier than the rest, always suffering from one ailment or another... always needing attention. The very same attention that I desired and craved for. So they could not stay because if they did, how would anyone ever notice me? Or see me beyond the wheelchair I was confined to? I needed to be here more than they did. And so, I had to help them move along to the next realm quickly.

As I dozed off, their forlorn little faces flashed before my eyes and each time, my smile grew wider and wider. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up in the morning as usual and waited for the panic to ensue. All the other children woke up and went about their morning routine eventually heading off for breakfast. All except she and I. And when Maria came to get me out of bed as usual, she noticed the lone child still in her bed and walked over to her. It did not take long for her to raise the alarm and for a while… everybody forgot about me. I stay put on my bed, silently observing it all. After all, I had no choice, did I? I had kept the fact that I could walk for a

short distance to myself. There was no need for anyone to know anyway. It was my little sweet secret… my weapon of choice when I needed it. I watch them fuss over the body, running in and out, each time coming back with someone new as if it would change the fact that she was dead. It was always this way and nobody suspected a thing. Eventually, they

would remember to attend to me once all the fuss had died down. She would soon be forgotten. One day… one day they will love me in the way I want to be loved.

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