Days went by and the old hag would starve me until she was content with me begging for even the smallest crumbs off her plate. I was not the only one left to feed on scraps, though. There was a girl a few years younger than me, with faded blond hair and grey eyes. Her limbs looked like twigs with skin encasing them. The absence of fat in her body was enough for me to learn every bone in the human anatomy. 

I felt pity for her. She could taste every disgusting thing put into her mouth. Of course, that wasn't enough suffering for the woman to inflict. Aside from her love for starving helpless children, she relished being able to abuse us. She left bruises, wounds and scars to decorate our bodies, like an abstract painting. One prominent scar on the girl was a rouge line across her neck. The fatted pig of a woman had cut the girl's vocal cords as punishment for the countless nights the child wailed. The cause of the girl's tears was because of a traumatic incident.

From what she told me before losing her vocal chords, she was playing with her toys in her parents' house. Her father came back home after drinking at the nearby bar. Upon returning, he scolded her mother when she requested he stop splurging the money on himself and save it for the family. Her mother's statement enraged him, as he threw a nearby vase at his wife, missing her by a few inches. 

The girl told me she could still hear the vehement echo of ceramic glass shattering against the wall. Angrily, he headed to the kitchen to grab a knife. Her father ranted about how annoying her mother was, and in that moment he grabbed his wife's neck and ended her there and then. Her father then tried to hold the girl, saying they would live happily together, yet instead, she ran away, to inform the village's guards of what happened. 

When they arrived at her house, they could only see a dead body surrounded by a pool of blood. Her father had just enough time to escape, leaving no evidence for the guards to trace him. Because of her father's selfishness and insanity, she landed in this horrible prison several years after I arrived.

Her story would always make me quiver in disgust when I thought about it. Some days, I would wonder if her life would be bearable if she was born the same way I was. The reality is that if her father had killed his wife while she was still in her mother's womb, she would have died. 

Although, I guess it would have been a good thing since she would not have to feel pain anymore. She would be brought to the Divine Being who watches from above or be reborn into a better family. To be frank, I am not too sure about the inner workings of life and death. Sadly, the innocent will always encounter despair in their lives, but I hope from what I did, it will be the last horrific thing she watches.

I was outdoors, returning with some groceries I bought from the supermarket, when the sharp sound of a leather belt slapping something weak, resonated through the walls at an alarming volume. Dropping the basket with the food, I ran to check the source of the noise. To my horror, the woman was whipping the poor girl who was trying to shield herself. 

I could see strips of bright red on her pale, white skin. The woman never hit us with an object, no matter how much she loathed us. Her face showed no clemency, only the fuming rage, as if the child had raised her hand on her. On instinct, I stepped in between them, feeling the leather sting my flesh. The redness of my skin was visible through my tattered, dingy clothes.

"Move you filthy fiend so I can teach this girl to be grateful for what I give her!" she hollered.

With her belt, she allowed the leather to hit me hard on the face. Suddenly, I could feel something arise from the depths of my soul. A demon that finally wanted to take control of my body. There was a sensation of my skin opening on two sides of the middle part of my back. Then, in a fraction of a second, two black bones erupted, holding the woman. They raised her high enough for her legs to dangle, helplessly. 

The bones resembled those of a giant's hand. Holding her tight, they slowly squeezed her, causing the woman to choke so her tumultuous voice could not let out even a squeak, let alone a scream. She looked at me with shock and horror, while I tried my hardest to control the ignoble spirit within. The appalling additional pair of limbs soon brought her closer, and my mouth opened. 

She emitted a reddish-green gas, which I instantly recognized as her soul. And like the foul beast I am, I did what it took me so many years to do. I had not only successfully killed someone, but consumed their life force too.

The feeling of the woman's spirit flowing down my gullet was both thrilling as it was terrifying. I freed us from her vile nature, yet I had done it in the worst way imaginable. As I finished, I dropped her from my clutches, treating her as some worthless rag doll. Gradually, my senses kicked in, enabling myself to regain full power over my body. 

I looked ahead, seeing my reflection in the mirror where my gaze met with carnelian, animal-like eyes. The face under the mask I desperately tried to keep wearing had ultimately revealed itself. I remained frozen until two scrawny arms wrapped themselves around my waist from behind, holding me tight. The embrace was comforting, calming me from the spine-chilling episode.

"I am sorry you had to endure all this," I said, turning around to embrace the girl.

I wasn't apologizing for what she saw, but my failure to take action sooner so we could escape the wrath of that woman. I allowed her skinny limbs to console me, so I would not feel the guilt of what I had done, but I slowly realized that the demon inside was still there. I could not control it when it took over me earlier, and I feared I would not fare any better if put in the same situation again. It would only take a few moments for the beast I tried to keep at bay to come back and commit the acts I would not have dared to commit myself.

"I must leave! It is no longer safe around me! If I lose control again, I may kill you!" I shouted. Once she let me go, I gave her a quick peck on her forehead as I bid her goodbye.

"Stay safe. I hope you will find a family who will take care of you," I told her.

Before anything worse could happen, I grabbed a robe to cover the two monstrosities attached to my back. Getting out of the house, I ran towards the gate, hiding behind buildings every now and then to avoid suspicion. Unfortunately, two guards caught sight of my attempt and chased me. They were a lot faster than my debilitated legs and caught the collar around my robe. My black bones protruded from inside my clothes and hit them hard enough to make them fall. 

More of them came to attack me after being alerted by those witnessing the scene. The guards charged towards my direction. I closed my eyes, covering myself with my extra pair of bones. I held my breath, waiting for their hands to grab me, yet once I opened my eyes, the guards were only a few metres from me as if they had become mere statues. When they saw my bones, they knew what I had become. I was not some runt they could kill, but a fiend who could end them if provoked to do so. 

Beyond the guards, the villagers kept their distance from me, while some held their children. My dread made me feel powerless, while a pair of black feathered wings emerged from my back, allowing me to flee. I flew as far as I could from the village, not caring about where I was going. I wanted to die. I craved to disappear from existence, so the universe may spare me from the constant suffering I endured with every passing day.

Until my dying breath, the immense dread I feel will always remain as something no one could ever understand, no matter how many times I tell them. That feeling of sorrow is something I must carry every day until the universe ends.