This is my first-time writing for this fandom, so please forgive me! I've finished the series, but it was a really long time ago, and I didn't get the whole V.F.D. thing or even why the last word in the series was "Beatrice!"
I'll figure it out someday.
Well, anyway, please read this and tell me how I did!
Sad, broken, torn, shredded, ripped apart. Those were words that Count Olaf used to describe himself.
As young boy, he'd been beaten, bruised, molested. His scars still stand today. He'd been mentally abused too. He could never remember just one day where his mother had given him a hug and said, "Good job."
All he remembered was the sorrow, the pain, and the torture. Every day after school the routine was the same. Come home. Get something to eat before mother comes home. It was only meal of the day, so he had to make it count. Clean up the whole kitchen so she won't get madder.
Mother comes home, a scowl on her face. She looks around, finds something wrong with the kitchen. She takes Olaf to her bedroom...and beats him.
He was always the child and school who made up lies about falling out of trees, tripping on roots. Never were they true.
He had always been the child without lunch. He'd boldly brag, "I'm not hungry!" When in reality, hunger tore his stomach, ripping through his veins. At night he'd cry out from the hunger.
Two small crackers and a small bit of cheese is not enough to sustain a growing child.
The teachers could never teach him because of the hunger. He tried to concentrate on his work, but all he could think about was the awful hunger coursing through him. It never fully went away, even after his meager meal of two small crackers and a bit of cheese.
The wind always howled, and it always poured in Count Olaf's life.
When his mother passed, he had gone to her funeral, only because if he didn't go, he wouldn't get any money.
Even so, he only got a tenth of it, while his already-rich-great-something or other Baudelaire uncle inherited most of the money.
When they lowered her casket into the ground, some people claimed Olaf was crying. Others claimed he shed tears of relief.
He went into acting. In the world of acting, he could be anything. A merchant, a sailor, a prince, a mere servant. It was all his choice.
People claimed he poured his soul out into acting. They said, "When the man cries, he looks truly sad!"
He was. When he cried, he let all the grief, anger, tears pour out from the very depths of his soul into the character he was playing.
One day, he heard his great-Baudelaire uncle had died. He heard that three orphans were coming to live with him.
He didn't care. They wouldn't affect his existence. He would still wander around in a world of darkness, full of grief and sorrow, not caring who he hurt, if he could just let some of his bottled-up past out...
...Because he was broken.
What'd you think? I didn't put very much thought into this so please forgive me!
Tell me what you think! I'd love it if you left me a review!