Aljinon, thank you for the review! Yes, Silas can't handle women properly...a sad, but true fact. TT But it does make him more lovable!
Chapter Five – Silas
Why can't I do anything right? Why do I always seem to destroy things far beyond recognition? I apologized and prayed for her. I asked to make it all up to her. If she weren't so stubborn, I could have her right now! But no one wants a ghost. Ghosts don't get any love at all. Ghosts can't feel anything, or see in the dark very well, the time that is okay for us to travel. The sun penetrates ghosts, and ghosts must protect themselves from it. If a ghost could love, would he? If the ghost were indeed, loved, would he love as well? I wouldn't know. No one wants a ghost. My small, broken family I once had didn't want a ghost.
If I had been born with color in my skin and eyes, and were able to play in the sun with the other children, my parents would have been happy. My mother would be alive, and my father. My father would love me. I would have a nice small family in that village, and work as a dock manager. No, even better. A captain of a ship! I've always wondered what it would be like to ride the waves and see new places. What if I were a pirate? No, pirates don't exist anymore, do they? I have no clue. But I know what I do have a clue about. I would make Rachel Crowe my wife.
We would have three kids, two boys and a girl. Brittany, Hugo, and Marcus. My lovely boys would look just like their handsome father, and my daughter would look just like her beautiful mother. Now if only I were handsome. Rachel would have to be my wife. We were destined to be! Why would the Lord put her in my thoughts, even before I saw her, if not for me to wed her? I know this is what he wants, I can feel it from the top of my head, slivering down my spine and to the tips of my toes. Just thinking about it makes me shiver in delight! My family in Marseilles, my beautiful small family. If only I had a family. I may have once, when I was a small thing.
My mother would always sit me on her lap and hug me after father beat me, or her, saying, "We have a family, you and me!" and she would smile, poking my nose in that odd, yet loving way of hers. She had dark hair, like Rachel's. Sometimes it lay a strewn across her face, giving her that tired, yet strong look. At those times, it seemed like she was the strongest person in the world, and could protect me from anything. But I knew better. The only thing worse than being beaten, was being verbally abused. It hurt me more than anything to hear my father say he didn't love me, or tell me I was a worthless piece of shit. If he saw me crying, he would kick me and yell, "You are as useful as a broken watch!" and I would stop crying, knowing I would only get more abuse, and think to myself, "I am a broken watch."