Jack and Jill (part 1)

Jack and Jill went up the hill, 

To fetch a pail of water.

I think the nursery rhyme is stupid. Plain stupid.

I mean, who on earth would want to climb up an entire hill, just for a pail of water, which, from my experience, wouldn't last for long anyway?

Sooner or later, someone would come along and knock it down, completely emptying the pail of its contents. Just for the fun of it.

At least that's what I'd do.

Mummy would, of course, be very, very angry at me...

Anyway, back to the matter of discussion.

Yes, I may only be an infant, but even I know that there is a much, much more convenient way of getting water.

Namely, by turning one of the protruding knobs on the walls of the Wet Room.

Mummy always gets water this way.

Why am I so certain about this?

I'd hear the water coming out of those deadly knobs every time she calls out one of her most loathsome sentences, "Honey, time for your bubble bath!" and I'd scamper away as fast as I can.

Other sentences include "Bed time!", "This food is yummy! Try some," and the most generally spoken "No".

Traumatic experiences are often permanently etched in our memories.

Another one of the unfortunate facts of life I've learned so far in my one year of living.

If you haven't noticed, I'm a smart baby.

I know things.

***

Jack met Jill.

They became best friends.

Fell in love.

Got married.

Had a baby.

Lived happily.

Not too sure about the 'ever after' part, though.

***

Maybe I know too much.

Too much for a baby, who, at the tender age of one, should be enjoying the bliss ignorance provides.

Shouldn't I be clambering around, exploring and experimenting with dangerous stunts while my parents yell at me in fright? Shouldn't I be sticking my wet fingers into socket holes and almost getting my nose burnt by candle lights?

Why is it that I'm so sure it's just some natural phenomena that causes my eyes to see a duplicate of myself when I look at one of the smooth (not to mention slippery at times; I found that out the hard way) walls of the Wet Room (although I'm not too sure of it's explanation)?

Of course, at other times, I'm just your typical inexperienced, carefree baby.

I do realise that I always digress.

It's becoming an annoying habit. I've noticed.

I know too much.

About life and how unpleasant it can be. About how it loses its meaning, and though it's obviously best not to live, people still strive to live longer, drowning themselves in the delusion that one day, their lives will magically turn out to be better. Perfect, even.

Why live, when we're all obviously better off being dead?

***

"Jack, we haven't had a decent vacation since our little Rodya was born. Why don't we bring him to the beach this weekend? He hasn't been there before; I'm sure he'll love it."

"That's a good idea. We'll have so much fun. Won't we, Rodya dear?"

***

Jack fell down and broke his crown

I have heard Mummy tell me many times that we human beings can't live without a substance called "Onxyjen". I'm not sure what it is, but I sure as hell know that our lungs can't take in any of those stuff underwater.

"Because we're not fishies," Mummy once said.

To which I rolled my eyes. I mean, "fishies"?

Gosh.

Why do adults treat me like I'm a baby?

Wait...

I am a baby.

*sigh*

I hate it when I digress.

***

"Here we are, Rodya! The beach! Isn't it just beautiful? While waiting for Mummy to get some ice-creams, why don't we wet ourselves in the water waves?"

"Wait... Rodya... What are you doing??"

"Ouch, Rodya, stop it..."

"Arrgh!! Help!!! Somebody, help!!!"

***

Rodya, my dear.
You look so cute when you're asleep.
Your light breath is a lullaby to my ears
And your scent a soothing elixir when I weep.

But I can't believe what I saw today
At the beach when you played with your dad.
I witnessed him being pulled away
Where the waves swallowed him, my dearest Jack.

I refuse to believe what I saw,
But what else to trust, if not my own senses?
Tell me, dear Rodya,
Was it really you who drowned your dad, despite his defenses?

Is it even possible that
A little infant as helpless as can be,
Killed his own parent like a sinister rat
And dumped the body in the deep blue sea?

I love you, Rodya and that's why,
I think I'm going insane.
Nobody would ever think of you as the bad guy
When you're so innocently sleeping here by the window pane.

Being widowed at such a young age,
To stand on my own feet, I know it takes courage.
Now that Jack is gone and we're alone,
I promise I'll take good care of you all on my own.

***

And Jill came tumbling after.

I've learned the hard way that everything, no matter how high up, will eventually fall to the ground. The higher the fall, the harder the 'ouch'.

Trust me, it's never a pleasant feeling to fall.

I love gravity.

***

"Rodya, get away from the window NOW!"

"You're gonna fall!!! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Rodya..."

"No, Rodya, stop! Stop!!!!"

Rodya... I'm your mother...

Why, Rodya? Why?