The Crocodile
People say that I'm crazy, deranged, pscyhotic. Mad enough to feed my own child to the crocodiles. But I fed him to the crocodiles because I loved him. He begged me to feed him to the beasts in the river. I was simply respecting his wishes. I was trying to make him happy.
Ah! Those days were so much brighter. He was a normal child. I watched him grow from an adorable baby to a strong young boy. He was the apple of my eye. I gave him all I could, taught him everything I knew. His father taught him how to use weapons, how to hunt. Everytime they were training together, I would watch in the distance, lovingly.
But, when he turned five, he began to pollute my dreams. Every night as I slept, he would seep into my mind. I was seeing the same dream, again and again. He would stand in front of me with blank, lifeless eyes, and an unmoving body.
His mouth would then open, and he would say in an emotionless voice, "Feed me to the crocodiles. Feed me to the crocodiles."
Then, I would awake, gasping for air, and sweating. I would look at him, and see that he was sound asleep. On the first few nights, I dismissed this as strange nightmares. He was sleeping soundly right next to me, after all. But then I began to hear the same voice as I did my work during the day. The voices never stopped.
So I tried sleeping next to my husband instead of my child. But it never worked. Each night, I was still waking up with dread, and each day I heard that incessant voice, gnawing away at my sanity. I went to the village healer, to see if I could get some help. They tried everything. Spells, potions, rituals. Nothing worked.
I was beginning to lose hope. I was sick and tired of the voice in my head. I wondered what I had done wrong to be struck down with this illness. Then, it got worse. I began to see my child 's reflection in the river, the one I had seen in my dream. He was always telling me the same thing. The reflections showed up even when he wasn't around.
After enduring this torture for a few more weeks, I finally realized that I wasn't going through torture, but was receiving a message. My child really did wish to be fed to the crocodiles. He unknowing longed to be a part of the river, and as his mother, I would make that happen. I felt so much fresher after realizing this. It was like the fog had been cleared, and I could finally see the true path. I was to make my child happy. If he wanted to be part of the river, then I would make him happen.
I devised plan, it was simple, yet so efficient. It was so good that I was actually proud of it myself. His father would be on a hunting trip the next day, meaning that I had enough time to grab him, and feed him to the crocodiles within that period of time. My heart pounded with joy as I thought about how happy my child would be after he became a part of the river.
The next day, I prepared his favorite dish for breakfast, and dressed him in his best clothes. He looked so happy to be treated so well. But I knew that he would look even happier after he became a part of the river.
After we waved his father goodbye, I scooped him up, saying that I had a surprise for him. His little face lit up with joy as he thought about what I was going to surprise him with. I smiled too, thinking about how much happier he would be after I showed him the surprise.
I carried him to the part of the river that was infested with crocodiles. His eyes turned to me, confused.
"Mother, why are we going here? It's not safe with all the crocodiles!" He said.
"My dear, this is your home. Today, you will be a part of the river. You'll be the happiest little boy in the world. You'll be my happy little boy," I said proudly.
For some reason, his eyes began to display a look of fear. I didn't know why he would be scared about me fulfilling his wishes. I was saddened after seeing this, but I knew that I needed to fulfill his wishes either way.
"Mother, I don't want to be here. I want to go home. I don't want to be a part of the river. I'm happy at home," he said.
"You were begging me to feed you to the crocodiles. I'm just trying to make you happy. I assure you, I'm doing this because I want you to be happy. I love you. That's why I'm doing this," I said.
"This isn't making me happy! Put me down! Put me down!" he started to thrash and scream.
I hugged him tightly. He continued to cry, begging me not to. But I simply told him that I was doing this for him. I began to scan the area for crocodiles, while he tried desperately tried to break free. Then, I found one. I climbed on its back, and pried open its mouth. He screamed and yelled out for help as he struggled to break free. Then, he was in the crocodile's mouth.
I looked at him one more time. "I love you."
Then, he was gone. Blood spilled out of the crocodile's mouth. I skipped back happily to the village, and went about my day as normal.
When my husband came home, I told him happily what I had done, with the biggest smile on my face. I expected him to start smiling, and congratulate me for making our son happy, but he didn't. It was quite the opposite. Tears started pouring out of his eyes, and they looked at me with hatred and anger.
"What have you done! How could you have done this, you crazy woman!" he yelled at me.
I stood there, saddened and confused. "I assure you, I was only fulfilling his wishes. I love our son, and I only wanted to make him happy. He's a part of the river now. He's always wanted this to happen."
"What is wrong with you!? You killed our son! I'll make you pay for this!" He shouted angrily at me.
He turned the entire village against me. Why? Because I made our son happy. If he had just seen that I had made our son happy, maybe he could still be happy, and live the rest of his life with his wife, instead of becoming a ghost, and sulking in his mother's house for the rest of his life. But the important thing is that my son is happy. It's all that matters.
Ah! Those days were so much brighter. He was a normal child. I watched him grow from an adorable baby to a strong young boy. He was the apple of my eye. I gave him all I could, taught him everything I knew. His father taught him how to use weapons, how to hunt. Everytime they were training together, I would watch in the distance, lovingly.
But, when he turned five, he began to pollute my dreams. Every night as I slept, he would seep into my mind. I was seeing the same dream, again and again. He would stand in front of me with blank, lifeless eyes, and an unmoving body.
His mouth would then open, and he would say in an emotionless voice, "Feed me to the crocodiles. Feed me to the crocodiles."
Then, I would awake, gasping for air, and sweating. I would look at him, and see that he was sound asleep. On the first few nights, I dismissed this as strange nightmares. He was sleeping soundly right next to me, after all. But then I began to hear the same voice as I did my work during the day. The voices never stopped.
So I tried sleeping next to my husband instead of my child. But it never worked. Each night, I was still waking up with dread, and each day I heard that incessant voice, gnawing away at my sanity. I went to the village healer, to see if I could get some help. They tried everything. Spells, potions, rituals. Nothing worked.
I was beginning to lose hope. I was sick and tired of the voice in my head. I wondered what I had done wrong to be struck down with this illness. Then, it got worse. I began to see my child 's reflection in the river, the one I had seen in my dream. He was always telling me the same thing. The reflections showed up even when he wasn't around.
After enduring this torture for a few more weeks, I finally realized that I wasn't going through torture, but was receiving a message. My child really did wish to be fed to the crocodiles. He unknowing longed to be a part of the river, and as his mother, I would make that happen. I felt so much fresher after realizing this. It was like the fog had been cleared, and I could finally see the true path. I was to make my child happy. If he wanted to be part of the river, then I would make him happen.
I devised plan, it was simple, yet so efficient. It was so good that I was actually proud of it myself. His father would be on a hunting trip the next day, meaning that I had enough time to grab him, and feed him to the crocodiles within that period of time. My heart pounded with joy as I thought about how happy my child would be after he became a part of the river.
The next day, I prepared his favorite dish for breakfast, and dressed him in his best clothes. He looked so happy to be treated so well. But I knew that he would look even happier after he became a part of the river.
After we waved his father goodbye, I scooped him up, saying that I had a surprise for him. His little face lit up with joy as he thought about what I was going to surprise him with. I smiled too, thinking about how much happier he would be after I showed him the surprise.
I carried him to the part of the river that was infested with crocodiles. His eyes turned to me, confused.
"Mother, why are we going here? It's not safe with all the crocodiles!" He said.
"My dear, this is your home. Today, you will be a part of the river. You'll be the happiest little boy in the world. You'll be my happy little boy," I said proudly.
For some reason, his eyes began to display a look of fear. I didn't know why he would be scared about me fulfilling his wishes. I was saddened after seeing this, but I knew that I needed to fulfill his wishes either way.
"Mother, I don't want to be here. I want to go home. I don't want to be a part of the river. I'm happy at home," he said.
"You were begging me to feed you to the crocodiles. I'm just trying to make you happy. I assure you, I'm doing this because I want you to be happy. I love you. That's why I'm doing this," I said.
"This isn't making me happy! Put me down! Put me down!" he started to thrash and scream.
I hugged him tightly. He continued to cry, begging me not to. But I simply told him that I was doing this for him. I began to scan the area for crocodiles, while he tried desperately tried to break free. Then, I found one. I climbed on its back, and pried open its mouth. He screamed and yelled out for help as he struggled to break free. Then, he was in the crocodile's mouth.
I looked at him one more time. "I love you."
Then, he was gone. Blood spilled out of the crocodile's mouth. I skipped back happily to the village, and went about my day as normal.
When my husband came home, I told him happily what I had done, with the biggest smile on my face. I expected him to start smiling, and congratulate me for making our son happy, but he didn't. It was quite the opposite. Tears started pouring out of his eyes, and they looked at me with hatred and anger.
"What have you done! How could you have done this, you crazy woman!" he yelled at me.
I stood there, saddened and confused. "I assure you, I was only fulfilling his wishes. I love our son, and I only wanted to make him happy. He's a part of the river now. He's always wanted this to happen."
"What is wrong with you!? You killed our son! I'll make you pay for this!" He shouted angrily at me.
He turned the entire village against me. Why? Because I made our son happy. If he had just seen that I had made our son happy, maybe he could still be happy, and live the rest of his life with his wife, instead of becoming a ghost, and sulking in his mother's house for the rest of his life. But the important thing is that my son is happy. It's all that matters.