"What shall I do with him?" "Put him with the others."
August 14, 1945
“Everybody line up!” Barked the headmistress of the gloomy orphanage. All the young children scatter, they push each other trying their best to get in line quick. Once everyone was lined up, the cruel headmistress made her way down the line. She eyed the children with her cold blue eyes, she was all business. Headmistress Ketch was never casual, the children always saw her steely grey hair tied into a tight bun, and she always wore a pressed grey dress. The children had a nickname for her, they called her the iron maiden. She obtained that nickname because of her hands, they would feel like a paddle of iron whenever she would spank the children. Though, sometimes the spankings would be a little… too rough.
Headmistress Ketch stopped halfway down the line, there weren’t many children in the orphanage, well now that is. Standing in front of her was little Wilson Perry. Headmistress Ketch was on the hunt for the little brat who stole some leftover brownies from the night before. A malicious smile stretched across the old woman’s wrinkled face, specks of chocolate was visible on Wilson’s overalls. “Well, well children! Looks like we’ve got a thief amongst us,” she says. Wilson’s eyes widen in fear as he looks down at his clothes, he tries to wipe off the evidence but is stopped when Headmistress Ketch clamps her iron hand around the boy's small wrist. Wilson screams and tries to pull away from the woman, his thrashing stops when he feels her hand tighten around his wrist.
The other children stare in horror, they dare not to say anything for they know that if they do, they’ll be next on Headmistress Ketch’s list. “P-Please, Headmistress! I-I’m sorry! I-I only wanted an extra sweet!” Wilson pleads as tears swim in his brown eyes. With a rough tug, Headmistress Ketch pulls Wilson out of the line.
“Oh, Mister Perry, I know you’re sorry. You’re going to be very sorry,” she says as she pulls her hand back. Wilson twists to try and avoid the painful blow, but that only made it worse on him. Headmistress Ketch’s hard hand landed swiftly against his right cheek, the blow was so hard that it caused the young boy to fall to the ground. A sickening crack resonated through the halls of the orphanage, all the other children gasped. Wilson laid on the floor, still as a board. Headmistress Ketch stared down at the boy, her eyes hard and cold. She bends down and gently places two fingers on the boy's neck, a heavy sigh leaves her.
“Damn, we lost another,” she says.
Blood began to stream steadily from beneath Wilson’s head, this wasn’t the first time this had happened. It was their own fault, they should learn to hold still when it’s time for a spanking. A young girl began to cry when she saw the blood, that one cry set off a few more.
Headmistress Ketch glares at the children, “Everyone to their rooms! This didn’t happen, remember what I told you last time! Gail! Get up here!” she yells. The children rush to their rooms, leaving the headmistress alone with the dead body. Headmistress Ketch steps over the boy’s body and stands at the top of the stairs, a young woman in her mid-twenties hurries up them.
“I-I’m coming, Headmistress! Wha- O-Oh my goodness, Wilson!” the woman screams as she rushes to be by the boy’s side. Headmistress Ketch frowns and grabs the young woman’s bicep rather roughly and jerks her back away from the body.
“You idiot, girl! Don’t touch him without gloves! Clean this mess up, get the right material. Treat it like last time, don’t give me that look, Gail. The little monster should have been still,” headmistress Ketch scolded the young woman. Gail looks down at Wilson, her heart swells with sorrow for the little boy.
“H-Headmistress, I-I don’t understand. What had Wilson done? He did not deserve this! Just like how Joshua didn’t o-or Mary!” Gail cried. Headmistress Ketch narrowed her eyes and gave Gail a slap of her own. She gasps and holds her reddening cheek.
“It’s not my fault, Gail. It’s their own, they should hold still and take their spanking. Their deaths are their own faults. Now, clean up this mess and tend to the other children.”
Gail looks down in defeat, “What shall I do with him?” she asks.
“Put him with the others."