Amnesia and Star Child

Mike was in the playground, back at the school, home before home, all the way back then when...
Mike walked on, looking around at the children playing around the gardens and asphalt.
“Hey Mike!”
Mike turned towards the voice and saw a girl running towards him, everything was stuck almost in slow motion, it seemed slower than normal at least.
“Gracie!” Mike called.
Gracie’s smile became even wider, she reached him and took his hand and then together, they headed through the playground to the other side where children were skipping a long rope.
Gracie jumped in and started skipping gingerly, her long frilly pink dress barely even hindering her as she skipped over the rope slowly to the chant.
Mike hesitated only a second, and then joined in, skipping behind Gracie.
“Sing Mary Confuse us
A pocket full of bruises
Mary is as Mary does
And so she has her uses
Send her off to market
With a bloody basket
For pies and lies they all trust
And watch them as they buy it

Sing Mary Confuse us
With pockets full of bruises
Smile and blush so prettily
Though they think you’re useless
Mary Confuse died today
Mommy said she’s gone away
Daddy doesn’t even care
Daughter Mary couldn’t stay

We are niggers and we are wogs
They say we should be fed to the dogs
Mommy black and daddy white
They say we’re mongrels and have no right
We are half casts and bastards
And it’s our fault we are tanned red...
Blood is pouring
And pouring
And pouring
One two three...
And breed us out instead!”

Gracie jumped out of the rope and skipped around to the other side and Mike followed, jumping out of the way - but he didn’t land.
The chant rang in his head, ringing over and over as he was swallowed by the asphalt that opened wide like a mouth.
He fell, on and on into darkness.

Mike watched himself, detached, as he knocked on the door.
He was only six or seven.
The door opened and Gracie peered out at him, she smiled happily and took his hand, leading him inside.
“This way. Mommy’s asleep and Daddy went out.” Gracie said as she led Mike up the old, rotting stairs to a dingy old room.
“Wow...” Mike murmured in awe, his little brown eyes wide and his mouth agape as he looked at the room around him.
The curtains were old and musty, tattered, the walls were grimy and the wallpaper was starting to peel in some places, the carpet was old an worn, the closet door broken off on one hinge, a wardrobe, an ancient upright piano and a mattress with thin musty blankets were the only pieces of furniture in the room.
To Mike it was beautiful.
“See? Mommy hated the piano in the den, so she put it up here.” Gracie said, sitting down on the piano stool.
“It’s pretty...” Mike said, running his little fingers over the rotting old wood in wonder. “How do you get so lucky?”
Gracie shrugged.
“You know Chopin?” She asked while swinging her legs.
“Who’s that?” Mike stopped and looked at her sideways.
“He wrote this song. Mrs. Lauren gave me this so I could learn to play it.” Gracie said, showing Mike the tape player.
She pressed the start button and the sound of a piano filled the air.
Mike blinked and watched carefully as Gracie’s face screwed up in concentration as she struggled to follow the music.
After a while she gave up.
“Mrs. Lauren says I’ll have to practice everyday to be as good as Chopin.” Gracie said with a knowing expression.
Mike nodded - suddenly there was a bang and shouting.
Gracie’s eyes went wide, she and Mike both gasped at the same time.
“Daddy’s home! C’mon Blue - oh he’ll be so mad...” Gracie took Mike’s hand and led him to the door, still holding the tape player in her other hand.
She was breathing quickly and she was shaking.
Together they snuck down the ancient stairs, holding their breath with every creak and groan the stairs made.
“GRACIE!!!” The drunken and enraged voice roared.
Gracie sniffled and trembled, terror written plainly on her face, Mike bit his lip and then hugged her tightly, then led her down the stairs as silently as possible.
Gracie’s father caught sight of them and charged up to meet them.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He roared.
Gracie dropped the tape player and squeaked in terror.
With a brutish growl the drunken man grabbed Gracie by the shoulders and threw her across the room - Mike shouted something that made no sense, grabbed the tape player and ran away as fast as he could.
“GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!!” The man shouted, veering away from Gracie’s terrified form to the other child who was quickly scrambling back up the stairs.
Mike wailed in frustration as he felt the drunk’s huge hands wrap around his legs, dragging him off his feet - his head banged on the corner of a step - pain exploded in his brain, spots were going off before his eyes.
Mike was swung and launched like a human missile - narrowly missing Gracie’s mother, who had appeared out of the bedroom.
“HUGH!!! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!?” She screeched.
Gracie’s dad, who reeked of alcohol and was intent on mangling Mike - changed course and rounded off on his wife, beating her violently.
“YOU BITCH - WHORE - DID YOU LET THAT HALFCAST WOG IN HERE?!?” He bellowed.
“Gracie... Gracie...” Mike dragged himself to his feet and tapped Gracie’s arm.
She looked up at him, her bottom lip was trembling silently.
“We’ve got to get out...” He said, checking over his shoulder that the drunkard was still busy.
“Daddy’s gone crazy...” Gracie whimpered.
“I know, I know.” Mike held her hand for a second and then tapped her shoulder lightly.
“I’ll be back.” Mike said.
He hurried to the next room, looking around - the kitchen was as bad as the rest of the house, but it had something important - far more important than anything else right at that moment.
A phone.
He lifted the receiver and dialled 911.
“Hello, 911 Emergency Service, Fire, Ambulance, Police?” The woman’s voice said.
“Gracie’s dad’s gone crazy.” Mike said.
“Okay how do you mean?” The voice barely changed tone.
“He’s hurting her!” Mike cowered as the smashing of a vase echoed through the house, a scream and the sound of Gracie crying.
“I’ll put you through to the police.” The woman said.
Mike bit his lip and rocked, hoping they would be fast and that Gracie would be okay.
The line came through.
“He’s gone mad - Gracie’s dad - he’s gone mad!” Mike gritted his teeth.
They got him to give the address, which with a bit of trouble, he gave, and then they said they had sent police to get them.
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” Mike dropped the phone and whipped his head around to see Gracie’s dad standing there.
Mike dropped the phone and bolted, running as fast as his legs would take him around and back to the den where Gracie was standing and her mum, slumped in a muddy red puddle on the floor.
Suddenly he was belted across the legs - he teetered and fell heavily on the ground.
“STUPID FUCKING WOG - WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?!” He bellowed.
Mike didn’t move.
He was kicked brutally and then dragged off the ground by the arm.
“There will be... No mongrels in this house.” His voice dropped menacingly.
He was dragged along, the door opened and then outside, finally he was dumped on the road and kicked one last time before being left there.
Mike opened his eyes and cried, softly, not wanting to attract any attention, but the pain was awful - his ribs and abdomen hurt.
Despite the voices telling him to get up and go back to make sure Gracie was okay, he couldn’t drag himself up, he couldn’t move.
He closed his eyes and sobbed miserably.
The sound of distant sirens wailing came closer and closer until - suddenly there was the screech of tyres and the sound of voices.
Mike opened his eyes and found himself looking at the treads of a tyre.
“Hey little man are you okay?” A black policeman crouched down by his side.
“Gracie’s still inside, is she okay? Make sure she’s okay...” Mike’s voice was small, fractured from tears.
“We’re checking. What’s your name?” Another policeman asked.
“Blue.” Mike said.
“Okay Blue, can you get up?” The white policeman pressed gently.
“Gracie’s dad’s gone crazy.” Mike insisted.
“We have guys going in there now, but we want to make sure you are okay. Blue, can you get up?” The black asked.
“No... My tummy hurts.” Mike whimpered.
“Okay. Call an ambulance.” The first policeman said, then looked back down at Mike. “Little man, everything’s going to be alright, now who’re your parents?”
Mike wouldn’t reply.
Abruptly the dream faded and Mike found himself watching himself as the Welfare car pulled up.