I slowly sank to the ground, the dagger protruding from my midsection. How
had things ended up like this? How had I grown to hate my brother? I had
hated Van for so long that it had become second nature to me. Ever since
Van had been chosen over me to succeed the throne, I had hated him. I had
made everyone, including myself, believe it was out of jealousy. Now, at
the end, I had to question it.
I remember now, even though I had been disappointed, I had also been happy for him. I watched with pride as my brother learned to fight from me. He had looked up to me so much, and I had loved him with all of my heart. We had been inseparable. How had we grown apart?
Then, envy had stirred in my heart for the first time as everyone grew to love and admire him. Everyone had talked about him, cheered for him, was glad for him, raised him beyond the height of his true valor. I was shunted aside, even by our own parents. I eventually grew to feel lower than a dog. I was in my younger brother's shadow, who was the whole clan's favorite.
My parent's favoritism hurt the worst. After a while, I was willing to do anything to get their attention. But it had the opposite effect. Everything I did was attributed to my brother. Then, desperate to be loved by my parents as much as he was, I started causing trouble. They scolded me and told me that I should be more like him. Never once did they begin to think that it was this scolding and shunning that made me cause trouble.
I eventually got so depressed and felt so invisible that I tried to commit suicide. I stole my father's knife and cut two deep gashes in both wrists. It was Van who found me, half-dead, blood covering the ground around me, father's knife in my hands. His scream brought our parents. After my wrists had been sewn shut and bandaged, father yelled loud and long at me. He told me that I was bringing shame onto myself, my family, and my entire clan. I yelled back at him that it was him that drove me to it. Then, my mother screamed that under no conditions was I to blame either one of them for my own cowardice. I told them that it was not cowardice, but courage that I had demonstrated. It was that night that I truly began to hate my brother. I blamed him for usurping my place in our parent's heart. I left home for the last time that day.
Hate then twisted my mind, and depression and pain filled my heart. I vowed to rid the world of all pain, at any cost. I traveled around, playing hero and killing people who hurt other people. But, inevitably, there were always more people, and I in turn hurt someone else by killing them. Then, I discovered the great jest: that WORLDS die, even the world of Gaia. No one would really appreciate my work. To rid the world of ALL suffering, I would have to annialate it.
Love for my brother filled my heart again as the sweetest sound in the world filled my ears for the last time. Van came running towards me.
"No! Don't come near me!" I yelled back at him. I dwelled a moment more on the sound of his voice. "That sweet sound...I had forgotten..." I muttered, picturing him as a child again. I closed my eyes.
I remember now, even though I had been disappointed, I had also been happy for him. I watched with pride as my brother learned to fight from me. He had looked up to me so much, and I had loved him with all of my heart. We had been inseparable. How had we grown apart?
Then, envy had stirred in my heart for the first time as everyone grew to love and admire him. Everyone had talked about him, cheered for him, was glad for him, raised him beyond the height of his true valor. I was shunted aside, even by our own parents. I eventually grew to feel lower than a dog. I was in my younger brother's shadow, who was the whole clan's favorite.
My parent's favoritism hurt the worst. After a while, I was willing to do anything to get their attention. But it had the opposite effect. Everything I did was attributed to my brother. Then, desperate to be loved by my parents as much as he was, I started causing trouble. They scolded me and told me that I should be more like him. Never once did they begin to think that it was this scolding and shunning that made me cause trouble.
I eventually got so depressed and felt so invisible that I tried to commit suicide. I stole my father's knife and cut two deep gashes in both wrists. It was Van who found me, half-dead, blood covering the ground around me, father's knife in my hands. His scream brought our parents. After my wrists had been sewn shut and bandaged, father yelled loud and long at me. He told me that I was bringing shame onto myself, my family, and my entire clan. I yelled back at him that it was him that drove me to it. Then, my mother screamed that under no conditions was I to blame either one of them for my own cowardice. I told them that it was not cowardice, but courage that I had demonstrated. It was that night that I truly began to hate my brother. I blamed him for usurping my place in our parent's heart. I left home for the last time that day.
Hate then twisted my mind, and depression and pain filled my heart. I vowed to rid the world of all pain, at any cost. I traveled around, playing hero and killing people who hurt other people. But, inevitably, there were always more people, and I in turn hurt someone else by killing them. Then, I discovered the great jest: that WORLDS die, even the world of Gaia. No one would really appreciate my work. To rid the world of ALL suffering, I would have to annialate it.
Love for my brother filled my heart again as the sweetest sound in the world filled my ears for the last time. Van came running towards me.
"No! Don't come near me!" I yelled back at him. I dwelled a moment more on the sound of his voice. "That sweet sound...I had forgotten..." I muttered, picturing him as a child again. I closed my eyes.