Part I: Who and What Am I?
“You’re such a slob. I go through all the trouble of providing you with a nice dinner and you go at it as a pig would to a trough!”
I had devoured everything on my plate, cleared the serving dishes, and emptied the pots on the stove of their contents. My stomach clenched; a painful reminder of my still raging hunger. I needed more food. Across the table from me sat her plate, untouched and laden with the night’s fare.
Without saying a word, I reached across the table, grabbed the plate, and dragged it over the frilly tablecloth toward me. The dish was more than halfway on my side of the table when one of her talon-like hands latched on to the rim of the plate. I tugged, but the plate it did not budge. Her strength surprised me, given her small delicate demeanor. Then I remembered her outside shell was nothing but a facade. Meek and mild would never be two words used to describe her. Only days before, she’d thrown me more than fifteen feet. I wondered how far I would have traveled if I hadn’t slammed into a wall, which seemed to spring up out of no where.
My mouth watered as the aroma from the roast tantalized my nose. I needed more food! The red nails on her hand, which clutched the dish, reminded me of drops of blood against its whiteness. It should have made me nauseous but it only added to my burning appetite. Our gazes locked, suspended in a moment that felt as if it were hours. They say the eyes are the mirrors to the soul. In hers, I saw blue pools of nothingness. Did this mean she had no soul? I wondered as she stared into my eyes, could she see the contempt I held for her? The desire I had to bury my fork in her heart. Did she have a heart?
Her deceitful eyes fell away and with a flourish, she relinquished the plate. I brought it to me and greedily shoveled fistfuls of food into my mouth. I had lost patience with trying to gather morsels by fork a few minutes after I had sat down to dinner. Hence her snide, but not untrue comment.
What was I becoming? This unquenchable need for food was not the person I knew, but how did I know that when I could not remember my name, if I had family and friends, or where I lived?