I see myself as a noble man. A kind man. However there are certain things I cannot tolerate. My brother has betrayed me on the highest accord, and her... I thought she was the one for me.
But she is a repulsive, lying whore. And she must die.
If I cannot have her, my foul brother will not either.
This may very well be the last journal entry I write for Charlotte Petrova...
6 months earlier...
It was by the large hazelnut tree where they sat every day. The green blades of grass cushioned her head as he watched her distinctive vein pulsing in her forehead. It was something he loved about her. Silence fell upon the field as they both laid under the tree, just staring at the clouds in the blue sky. It was a stunning day, but whatever the weather, these moments were treasurable. Abruptly turning on her side, the boy jumped quickly, then looked at her.
"Elijah, I want to see your father's sword that you speak of everyday!" The young girl with long, dark hair squeaked at the older boy with similar coloured hair. She tugged on his shirt in a whiney way, but the boy just sighed.
"My father would never allow me to take it from the house!" Elijah hesitated, then looked at his younger friend's curious eyes beaming at him, "Unless you came over. For dinner, perhaps?" He suggested, knowing the risks that would come with that invitation. His family were not the most welcoming of people. He could see the girl paused for contemplation, too, but she eventually nodded with enthuasiasm.
"That is settled then. Bring your mother and father. I do not want my parents to feel suspisious."
"Of course. Oh, I cannot wait to meet your family, Lijah." The brunette sixteen-year-old hugged her best friend tightly then skipped out of the field where they regularly hung out, and headed back for her home. Sighing, Elijah also made the long trip to his home in the opposite direction.
"Goodbye, Charly." He muttered over his shoulder.