It was warm, very warm. Quinten woke up in a puddle of blood. His clothes, body, and hair were all soaked. The red blood that mixed with his white hair, gave for an unnatural sight.
His mother's hair was also red at the tips, but not as much as Quinten's. The look on her face was heartbreaking, Quinten couldn't bear to look at it. Sitting up, Quinten took off his shirt and covered his mother's face. He felt cold all of the sudden, he was scared, how was he gonna live now?
There was only one thing he should focus on right now. That was burying his mother.
The only place where he would be able to bury her, without anybody seeing would be the backyard. Although very small, he still decided that would be the best place.
Quinten stood up and walked towards the bathroom, he needed to wash his hands, maybe his face too.
He had slept for a long time, although he didn't actually know how long.The time of day was usually a mystery in this city. The sun would only shine through the massive dome protecting the city from time to time, but other than that, there was simply no indication. Except for clocks of course, but they couldn't afford clocks.
Opening the bathroom door, Quinten walked over to the sink. The bathroom was the cleanest and best part of the house. It looked completely contradictory to everything else. The walls were white and shiny, the floor was a marble tile with black dots. The toilet was white and fully clean, and the bathtub was surprisingly big.
Quinten looked out of place compared to the bathroom.
Ignoring how clean it was, Quinten turned on the sink and started washing the blood off of his hands. He deliberately avoided looking at himself in the mirror. Until he had to wash his face.
He looked up and stared at his face. While Quinten was cute, and overall a good looking kid, he still hated how he looked. His body, and his face, he hated it. He was utterly disgusted by himself.
An intense hatred washed over him. Letting the urge take over, he slammed his fist upon the mirror. The mirror however didn't even budge. The only thing he hurt was himself. Clenching his fist in pain, he only got more angry at himself.
His hands were still wet and had residues of blood on it. So Quinten decided not to wash his face as he didn't want to look at himself.
Turning the water off, he turned to the towel and took it off the rack. Quinten started drying his hands while leaving the bathroom. Walking back over to his mother's body, he closed his eyes and slowly took his shirt off her face and replaced it with the towel. He put his shirt back on and sat down next to her.
The earlier anger had passed and was now replaced with sadness. Even though he felt free, now that his mother was gone and couldn't harm him anymore. He still missed her deeply, he regretted his choice.
Now that his mother was gone, he felt like he couldn't live without her. He wanted to cry, but he had no tears left.
He had to bury, that should be his focus now. Quinten knew that it would take a long time, considering they had no tools or anything, so he would have to use his hands.
Standing up, he positioned himself near her feet. Trying to be as careful as possible, he grabbed her ankles and started to pull.
Nothing happened
She didn't move an inch. He pulled harder, nothing again, so he pull as hard as he could. He strained his muscles and gritted his teeth.
The blood on her ankles caused his hands to slip and Quinten fell backwards. Wiping his hands on his clothes, he started thinking of a way he could move her. She was going to get a burial no matter what.
That's the least he could do.
His mind wandered, even though his mother would force him to exercise, he was still weak. A weak pathetic little boy.
Quinten slammed his fist onto the floor.
The hatred in him intensified. With each passing moment he started to hate himself more and more. He pulled himself up and took off his shirt. Tying it to his mother's ankles, Quinten figured this would work.
As soon as he finished tying the shirt, he started to pull again. His mother barely moved, but at least it was better than nothing. But this rate, it would take him forever to get her to the backyard. He let go of the shirt with a frustrated breath and sat down. He had to think of something, a way he could do this faster.
Then it clicked, legs! He could use his legs, he could use his whole body! Quinten stood up and quickly started taking off his pants. Reaching down for the tied shirt, he clasped the end and tied his pants around the shirt, effectively making a makeshift rope.
He hoped it would be long enough because he didn't want to take off his underwear. Grabbing the clothes, he turned around and heaved the rope over his shoulder. Now pushing off the ground with all his weight, his mother's body finally started to move. He kept moving forward, one foot after the other.
Slowly but surely, he was inching closer to the backdoor. He had to stop, so he could move the small table out of the way so his mother wouldn't bump into it. He didn't want to harm her after dead, that would very disrespectful. As if killing her wasn't disrespectful enough.
Quinten let go of his clothes and moved towards the backdoor.
The door looked damaged, it looked so weak like you could kick it and it would break. The wood was chipped and small holes were in it.
Quinten decided the best course would be to dig the hole first, then bring his mother outside.
Upon opening the door, he was greeted with the sight of their pathetic backyard. It was small, a little larger than their bathroom. The fence surrounding it was tall, so nobody would be able to see over it without climbing. No grass could be seen, only dirt. There were no trees or plants or anything. Just a plain dirt backyard.
There wasn't even a porch, unlike the front of the house. Quinten stepped onto the dirt and looked up. The dome that was covering the city, looked the same as ever. For as long as he could remember, this dome had been there.
He remembers asking his mother about it, when he could talk. She said that it was erected to protect them from the Robots and Realm creatures.
Although he believed her, she never explained any further, never explained what robots or what realm creatures were. So it was essentially shrouded in mystery for him. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Quinten knelt down and started digging, with his bare hands.
The sooner he started digging the better. Scooping up dirt and tossing it to the side. He was doing this for what seemed like a few minutes, but he wasn't sure. The hole he had dug was pathetic, you could barely even call that a hole.
Quinten sighed
There had to be a faster way to do this. Maybe He could steal a shovel? But he could get caught. A spoon, a spoon is just a very small shovel! Luckily for Quinten they had one spoon.
Quickly standing up and running into the house, making sure to not step on his mother's body. Quinten grabbed the spoon and ran back outside. He could dig the hole faster, even of just by a little bit.
Quinten started scooping dirt, he gripped the spoon with his right hand and used his left hand to also scoop dirt.
Scoop after scoop, the hole was finally getting somewhere. Although nowhere near deep enough to fit a person.
Time passed, but Quinten kept digging. His were hands hurting, his arms becoming sore, the dirt was covering his hands. Despite how badly he was hurting, he kept going. The only thing on his mind was to dig this hole.
***
Hours passed, or at least what felt like hours. The hole was now deep enough to stand in.
The spoon he was using had broke awhile ago. So he had to go back to using his hands. Quinten started climbing out of the hole, jumping and grabbing the edge, he pulled himself up. Quinten layed next to the hole, breathing heavily.
He was covered in dirt and grime. His clothes were still tied to his mother ankle, so he was only in his underwear. Quinten's hair was all dirty, so dirty that it looked like it changed color.
After catching his breath, he stood up and walked over to the backdoor. As he opened it, he saw his mother. Fortunately her face was still hidden by the towel, so he couldn't see it.
Quinten wasted no time and gripped his makeshift rope. Turning around and heaving it over his shoulder, he pulled his mother outside. He was so tired, he felt like he could collapse at any moment. Despite that, he kept going.
He positioned her body next to the whole. The hole was dug straight down, so he had to lower her in horizontally.
Quinten slowly lowered his mother into the hole, making sure to be careful.
As he was lowering his mother, his foot slipped. Causing both of them to plummet into the hole. His mother's body broke his fall, saving him for injury. Although that didn't stop him from getting freaked out.
Quinten frantically stood himself up.
The towel that was covering her face fell off. Quinten felt horrible staring at his mother's face. Forcing himself to look away, he saw that he body was in a unnatural position.
Her upper body was lying flat on the bottom, while her legs were facing upwards, making them poke out of the whole.
Quinten sighed
He didn't want to touch her, but this time he had too. Quinten grabbed onto one of her legs and tried to bend it. The leg wouldn't budge, he tried harder but still nothing.
She felt very stiff and rigid. No matter how hard he tried, her leg wouldn't bend. He moved closer and started untying his clothes from her ankle.
When he finished he started putting them back. His body was covered in dirt, but he still hated looking at it. Closing his eyes, Quinten put on his shirt and put his arms through the holes. Then he started putting on his pants, which is quite difficult when your closing your eyes.
After he was done, he decided to leave her legs like that. They were gonna be poking out but he had a solution for that.
Jumping and gripping onto the edge, he pulled himself up, being careful not to slip.
Quinten sat down
He was exhausted, he wanted at least a few moments of rest before filling the hole with dirt. His mind wandered, he started thinking about his body again. He couldn't express how much he hated it, how much he hated himself.
Quinten gritted his teeth
Standing up, he walked over to the mound of dirt next to the hole. The mound was so tall and big, he could stand on it. Resisting the urge to do that, Quinten started pushing dirt into the hole. Little by little the hole started to fill the hole.
He avoided looking at his mother's face until the dirt fully covered her.
His clothes were now covered in dirt. Quinten didn't care, he didn't care about how dirty he was. That was the last thing he was worrying about. He had many more important things to think about after all.
Like his body, he couldn't stop thinking about it. How uncomfortable he felt seeing himself. It was awful, he would do anything to not see himself anymore.
A horrible idea popped up in his head.
Trying to ignore that idea, he kept pushing dirt into the hole. Finally after a few minutes it was covered. The only thing out of place was his mother's shoes sticking out.
He stared at the hole. Memories upon memories flooded his mind. All the good times he spent with her and all the bad things she did to him.
A tear fell down his face. It seemed like he could cry again. Quinten fell to his knees and clutched his chest. The tears were coming back. They kept flowing and pouring out like a waterfall. Muffled noises could be heard from him. Quinten wanted to scream but he couldn't, he was incapable of screaming.
It hurt his throat to try and scream, but he strained his throat anyway. The pain that came from it was the only feeling that could overpower this intense sadness.
It felt good, felt good to have something cloud his mind.
Tears fell onto the dirt, quickly disappearing into it. He wanted to stop crying but couldn't. Still clutching his chest, Quinten layed down in the fetal position.
He decided that it would be best to rest for a bit.