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“Once upon a time there dwelt on the outskirts of a large forest a poor woodcutter with his wife and two children.” Typical beginning to the world renown Hansel and Gretel, right? Well, it would be a shame if the government took what actually happened in the story and twisted it to make it sound like the entire thing was the witches fault. The government would never do that. But I digress. The story I will tell you is the truth behind Hansel and Gretel.
It was a scorching evening in July; it seemed as though everywhere a person would tread; their feet would sear and sizzle, threatening to fall off. There had been a severe famine through the land. The fields were barren, the livestock was withering away, and every cellar in sight was uninhabited. We were fighting to survive.
No matter how hard I tried to deny or ignore the fact, it seemed I was struggling the most. I had this... voice in my head telling me to do certain things. I had gone to the local healer years before, but all she told me was that I was crazy and should be burned at the stake. Naturally I ran and ran until I collapsed at the door of an abandoned cabin. It took time, but I made that cabin my own and have stayed there ever since.
I was searching aimlessly around my cabin in search of a crumb of bread or a droplet of water, but just as every other day had been for the last 13 days, nothing. I let out an agitated sigh. I knew I had a small loaf of bread and a jam jar of water hidden away in a tiny ice box below the floorboards, but I intended it for an absolute emergency.
Although my stomach was complaining, I decided I could hold out a few more days.
*Eat the bread. It's not like you're going to survive for another month anyway. Go on, do it.*
There it was again. The stupid, good for nothing voice that won’t leave me alone no matter how many drinks at the bar I consume. Over the years, I've learned to not answer or acknowledge Voice in any way. Besides, this was my body, and I knew how to control it.
Tick, tick, tick.
‘Is that the door?’
*Don't answer that door, the village might have found where you live. They might try to kill you.* A pause rang out. *Actually, answer the door, it’d be better if you died.*
‘Just ignore it,’ I thought, as I padded my way to the door. My hand stretched out and made contact with the handle that might decide my fate. I twisted the metal as my stomach twisted with either hunger or terror. My arm flexed inward to reveal the something on the other side of the door to be.... children?
“Help, please.” The taller one’s raspy, crackling voice barely louder than a whisper reached my ears.
When my anxiety subsided, I realized these children were thinner than they should be at their age. They looked like the most they’d ever eaten was a single bean.
“We were kicked out of our house and walked until we found yours. Then we saw the food your house is made of and thought you could spare some,” the small dry voice of the girl pleaded.
‘House of food? What are they talking about?’
*Maybe they’re just crazy like you, or they’re hallucinating.*
‘Hallucinating? Oh no. These children are on the end of Thanatos’ blade. They needed food, immediately.’
“Please, come in!” I said in a hurry. Once I guaranteed they were safely inside, I rushed over to the hidden hatch beside the wood burning stove. I practically tore the door off its hinges with a newfound strength I didn’t know I had. Beneath the ice, my fingertips grazed the small wooden box. Hastily, my hands latched on to the box like my life depended on it. With the box safely acquired, I swiftly jogged over to the table the children were now sitting at. I could see them fading by glancing at their eyes which stared back up at mine, pleading to save their lives.
As quickly as humanly possible, I unlatched the box to reveal the bread and water. Thank the gods. I snatched the bread, tore it in two, and shoved the pieces into their little hands.
“Eat this!” I commanded. I began to pour the water into two different glasses when I heard a whisper in the back of my mind.
*Saving them would be a mercy but leaving them to die would also be a mercy.*
‘Not now Voice, I thought.’
*Whatever, you dug your own grave. Just remember one thing: ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.*
‘Tune it out,’ I reminded myself, as I then gave the glasses of water to the children.
“Drink!” I directed.
After a few seconds I finally began to see life and color return to their faces. I let out a relieved sigh. Things were finally starting to look up.
*Kill. Them.*
‘Ignore it.’
*Did you not hear me? I said KILL THEM!*
It was screaming in my ear. ‘Ignore it. Tune it out. You’re fine. Ignore it.’
*You think you can simply tune my voice out?*
Ignore it.
*I’m your conscience, remember?*
Ignore it.
*I’m a part of you.*
Ignore it.
*Now I won't ask again. KILL THEM!*
Ign-
*What happened? Where am I?*
“Look what happens when you lose control. I take over.” The voice that was supposed to be in my head was controlling my body.
*What have you done?!* I tried to scream but my voice was muffled like my ears were filled with cotton and my mouth was filled with tar.
“You finally understand how it feels, don’t you? Barely being able to hear yourself but forming colorful threats, nonetheless. And what have I done, you ask? May I remind you it was you who lost control. This is your fault.” Voice’s words slithered into my head, wrapped around my brain, and squeezed until I felt lifeless. I could barely hear myself think, but I could hear its words so clear. It made me sick.
Suddenly I was walking. I wasn’t in control of my body, but I was still walking. I was heading toward the stove when I realized something: Voice was controlling my body; I was powerless.
My soulless body side stepped from the stove to unlock the latch. It felt like I was on the passenger side of my own carriage, my own life. I was only able to watch what would be done with my body and beg and plead for Voice to stop.
The vessel reached down to acquire wood for the stove. The wood was inserted mechanically into the chamber, then the match box was grasped. I ceased my useless cries and pleas for surrender. I couldn’t do anything except watch in horror of what may become of this situation. As if I was watching a moving picture, the match box was opened, a single matchstick was seized, the arm I no longer had command over struck the stick once, twice, sparks flew and a flame was formed.
*What are you doing?*
“What should’ve been done from the very beginning.”
*You’re psychotic.*
"Don't forget, I'm you. You're the psychotic one."
The match was then tossed into the stove. The light of the flames burned my eyes, but I couldn’t find the strength the look away. The wood began to char rapidly. I watched through the window of my eyes as this unfamiliar being turned to gaze at the two innocent children who might still be starving. I walked toward them slowly. My unresponsive arms stretched toward them both to grasp their arms.
Either time began to speed up, or I began to slow down.
*Voice, I know what you’re doing. Please don’t do it.*
No answer.
*Please, I beg of you don’t do this!*
The uninhabited ship sailed toward the stove still ablaze.
*No, no, NOO! STOP PLEASE! NO!* I was screaming at a castle wall. Only three words were stumbling through my head. *NO, PLEASE, STOP!*
Instantaneously, both children were then picked up and terrifyingly gently placed inside the prison of fire.
Silence.
Silence except for the screams of the innocents suffering before me. Where was I? I couldn’t possibly do this. This wasn’t me.
Or maybe it was.
This was my body doing this to these children. What would the government believe? The facts that my body burned these children alive or the crazy lady that hears voices.
The aroma of burning flesh clawed at my senses putting me back in control. I blinked. I clinched my fist, then released. I was back. My mouth opened but no sound came. I couldn't find the strength to speak. I just stared at what I had done.
Before I could make a coherent thought, my feet turned and ran. Ran as far and as fast as I could. I vowed to myself I would never stop running until I collapsed at Death’s door. I didn’t cry or gasp for air because I couldn’t. All I could physically do was run. It didn’t matter how or where I ran to, just as far away from this monstrosity I committed.
I never wanted to hurt them. I would never have thought of that, but it doesn’t matter.
I still did it.