The Forgotten Child. Richard Gallear
in a strange room, the pale glow of the street lamp through my flimsy curtains casting eerie shadows, distorting everything around me. Though scared of the shadows, I was even more afraid of Arnold. He had become the ogre of my nightmares, but now that I was awake, I realised afresh that he was real, terribly real.
At that moment, I wet the bed. I couldn’t stop myself.
Oh no!
At Field House, one of our lovely housemothers would have come in and comforted me with loving care, but not here. I cried in panic, trying desperately not to make any noise, but I couldn’t stop myself sobbing.
I heard a creak on the landing. The door burst open and Arnold stormed in, towering over me, shouting and swearing. I can’t remember most of what he said that night, especially the swear words, which I’d never heard before, but one or two things stood out, though I didn’t understand them.
‘You little bastard!’ he shouted at me as he pulled all my covers off. ‘Look what you’ve done! You don’t deserve our kindness in taking you in. Your parents didn’t want you, nobody wants you. You’re a bastard child, even God doesn’t want you!’
I cowered and sobbed more loudly.
Taking hold of my pyjamas in one hand and my ear in the other, he pulled me right out of bed and threw me onto the floor. As he yelled all the insults he could think of, I curled myself up in a ball on the coconut mat, while he rained slaps and punches on me and kicked me again and again, as hard as he could with his bare feet.
He was in a frenzy. Instinctively, I put my hands round my head to protect myself, but my body hurt with every blow. At one point I think I soiled myself too, but I couldn’t help it – if only he would stop. I heard myself scream out for help, but that angered the monster even more. However, my scream must have woken Pearl as the door opened and in she came, with an anguished expression and tears streaming down her face.
‘Stop! Please stop!’ she wailed at Arnold. ‘You’ve done enough,’ she pleaded. ‘If you go back to bed, I’ll sort Richard out and clean everything up.’
Arnold still had hold of me in one hand, his other fist ready to punch me again, but suddenly he dropped me, stormed out and slammed the door behind him.
‘There, there,’ soothed Pearl. ‘He’s gone now, so let’s clean you up and make you comfortable again.’
She led me into the bathroom, carefully took off my wet, soiled pyjamas, gave me a good wash down and put the big towel round me to go back in the bedroom and keep warm while she got out the new pyjamas she had bought me. After unfolding them, she passed them to me to put on, while she stripped the bed and turned the mattress: new sheets and pillowcases made it all smell nice and fresh again.
She tucked me in and said goodnight with a sorrowful smile. I gave her a weak smile back, but I was still sobbing inside. My whole body ached and throbbed from the tyrant’s attack. She turned off the light and closed the door, leaving me crying quietly to myself, under the covers. I was so tired, but was it safe to sleep? Would he come back for another attack? It was only my first night here – would every night be the same? Sore all over, I curled up in my bed and cried myself silently to sleep.
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