THE GIRL WHO WOULDN'T DRINK: LONELY
DISCLAIMED
-------------------------------DELOS POV------------------------------------------------------------
"DON'T leave me Jonathen!" I sobbed brokenly, clutching the few ashes I had left of my old tutor, the only one who ever loved me.
"Don't be stupid Boy." The cold voice of my father slithers across my five –year- old spine. "You might actually do your father a few favors, don't you want to be useful to me. Don't cry over anything, let alone victories, it makes you weak. No son of mine is weak his voice was cruel and full of distain.
I didn't want to be disdainful so I say "Yes father" Softly.
"What Boy? Speak louder, and I'm majesty to you not Father. Respect me. Fear me." He walks over and without stopping slaps me across my face. I whimper and cry out softly. "Don't cry idiot boy. Its weakness. Are you weak?"
I shake my head but he just laughs "Yes you're weak." He walks away without a second glance at me.
I curl into a shivering ball on the stone floor. "I am not weak." I tell myself over and over, but it doesn't work, I cry all night long.
I jerked awake with a gasp that caught in my throat like a sob.
It was just another memory dream, I killed both Jonathen and my father many years ago. I laughed a bit humorlessly at the irony that I had killed my father and not vice versa. He had never once expected it.
The last time I had cried was that night with my only friends ashes. And then I had coated my heart with ice so no one could ever hurt me again.
That was how I liked it. The cold in my chest.
I got up and stepped on my fur carpet. I would see the slave pens today that would cheer me up, seeing vermin at their proper place, I told myself but then I frowned why was I having to convince my self? It was an instinct.
Wasn't it?
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