Day 2

I wake up in the morning to the sound of soft voices around me. A gentle touch brushes against my cheek, and then I find myself being lifted against my mother's chest. The smell of her is comforting, a mix of flowers and her natural scent. I feel her warmth enveloping me, like a cozy blanket.

I latch onto her nipple. It's soft and warm in my mouth. As I suckle, I taste the sweet, slightly creamy flavor of her milk. After I finish feeding, I hear my father's voice close by. He speaks in a language I don't understand, but the sound of his voice is soothing nonetheless.

My mother cradles me against her chest as she walks around the house. I blink my eyes open for the first time, my vision still a little blurry, but I manage to take in my surroundings as much as I can.

As she carries me through the living room, I can make out some basic shapes of furniture and objects. The smell of a recently burned fire lingers in the air, mixed with the scent of well-worn wooden furniture. We move on to the kitchen, where an array of cooking smells wafts past my nose. The combined aroma of fresh bread, herbs, and something savory makes me feel cozy and at home.

Finally, we enter the bathroom. The scent here is different, clean and sharp, with a hint of soap and fresh water. I see the glint of sunlight reflecting off the water in a large basin, and the room is filled with a sense of order and cleanliness.

My mother carefully lowers me into the warm water, supporting my head and body gently. The sensation of water enveloping me is a new experience, and I feel both the warmth and the slight pressure of the liquid against my skin. She uses a soft cloth to gently clean my body, taking care not to hurt me as she speaks softly.

"Tha mi a' nighe dèid agad, a Lileag. Nàdurra, bidh thu glan às dèidh seo."

As she carefully rinses the cloth in the water and continues to wash my face, I can't help but feel a sense of security and love. The sound of her voice, even though I don't understand the words, is soothing and comforting. After ensuring that I'm properly cleaned, she lifts me out of the water, wrapping me in a soft, warm towel.

She cradles me in her arms once again and starts singing a beautiful song. Her voice is melodic and gentle, creating a sense of peace that washes over me.

"Seo làn de ghràdh, mo leanabh,

Òran binn a' ghaoil,

Càirdeas, dìlseachd, is spèis,

Dhut-sa, a Lileag bheag.

Suain, mo ghràdh, is faigh fois,

Ann an uchd do mhàthar,

Gus an tig an latha ùr,

Dèanamh grian a' snàmh.

Codail, codail, a ghaoil,

'S ann ort-sa a tha mo chridh,

Bidh mi cuide riut a-chaoidh,

Mo leanabh, a Lileag bheag."

As her song continues, my eyelids grow heavy and I can't resist the gentle pull of sleep. The sound of her voice becomes a lullaby that guides me into a peaceful slumber, nestled securely in her loving embrace.

In my dreams, I'm taken back to my old life, where the memories are far from the warmth and love I experience now. I find myself in a small, dimly lit living room. My father stumbles in through the front door, the stench of alcohol heavy in the air. He glares at me, his eyes bloodshot and wild, as he searches for a reason to vent his frustrations.

"What the hell is this mess?" he barks, his voice dripping with contempt as he kicks a book I had left on the floor. "Can't you do anything right?"

I stutter, trying to apologize. "I-I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to leave it there."

My mother, sitting on the couch with her arms wrapped protectively around herself, watches the scene unfold with a mixture of fear and resignation. She doesn't dare intervene, but her silence speaks volumes.

As my father's anger builds, he strides towards me, his fists clenched. "You're just a worthless burden, always causing trouble," he spits, his words like venom. Before I can react, he strikes me across the face, the force of the blow sending me crashing to the floor.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I cower, trying to shield myself from his fury. My father continues to berate me, each hateful word cutting deeper than the last. "You'll never amount to anything. You're a disgrace!"

Through my tears, I look to my mother for support, but she turns away, choosing to remain a silent witness to my suffering. "You know how your father gets when he's been drinking," she says weakly, her voice cracking. "You should've been more careful."

As I lie there on the cold floor, battered and bruised, I can't help but feel utterly alone, betrayed by the very people who should have loved and protected me. The weight of their indifference and cruelty presses down on me, suffocating any hope for a brighter future.

The dream shifts, and I find myself in my small, cluttered bedroom, my body trembling from the pain and humiliation of the earlier confrontation. Desperate to escape the unbearable suffering of my life, I look around and spot a bottle of medicine on my nightstand.

A glimmer of hope flickers in my heart, and I clutch the bottle tightly, my hands shaking. I unscrew the cap, my breath hitching as I pour a handful of pills into my palm. As I raise them to my lips, I close my eyes, and in the depths of my despair, I whisper a desperate prayer.

"Please, if there's any god out there... take me away from this place. Send me to another world, somewhere better, where I can be happy."

With that final plea, I swallow the pills, feeling them slide down my throat and into the pit of my stomach. As darkness starts to envelop my vision, I feel an odd sense of peace, the thought of escape from my torment growing ever closer.

Little did I know, my desperate prayer would be answered, and destiny would grant me a second chance at life in a world far removed from the pain and suffering I had known.