How dare he?
Her teeth were gritted to the point of cracking, fingers so tightly held that she felt the bones shifting in them and hoping they would not break. Her life and love had torn himself from her - it was a surprise she had held it together so well thus far.
Her brother was useless, she'd come to decide then. He had been of no help, no love had been held in his embrace when he'd tried to comfort her and repair her shattered heart with empty words. How painful it was to deal with lost love once more, it was as if a curse had been set upon her to ensure that love and happiness never fully was granted to her.
Her husband had vanished and died in a month's time.
Her child had been murdered before its time.
Her new love abandoned her and Regalia.
Not even her own brother had treated her kindly, saying simply that he'd predicted her abandonment and that she were a harlot - of all things a brother could call his younger sister, he chose the most painful, yet the most truthful.
She was a harlot, she knew this well. She knew it every time she'd smiled at another man when her lover had his back turned. She knew she had it coming, that eventually he would give up on her being faithful, give up on her sneaking off with pitiful excuses to lie with another.
Why was she liked? She was a terrible person, really. She'd broken more hearts than she ever planned to, than she ever took credit. She betrayed and broke people. Used them for their trust, and money, and empty love. Her best friend was basically her sister, and yet she'd used the woman for blood and as a tool behind her back. The baron was used for empty nights and funds. Her own lover, one she promised she truly wanted to marry, looking back was someone she never planned to be with, they had spent their times together throughout a period where neither was going anywhere. They used each other willingly.
Her fist never landed on the mirror that she so desperately wished to shatter, to no longer look at her own image. Instead she sunk into the waves of misfortune that had been cursed upon her years ago when she'd lost her mother, father, and brother - something she could say because even though her brother lived within the same city, they no longer were truly on each other's side. It hit her hard, this was her own fault.
The abandonment.
The death.
The loss of love and family.
It was her own fault by betraying each and never rising up to catch them when they stumbled. The worst part was that she knew, deep down that she did not regret it. She lacked something to really care for all the pain she put others through and knew that she'd do it again.
How dare she?
Her teeth were gritted to the point of cracking, fingers so tightly held that she felt the bones shifting in them and hoping they would not break. Her life and love had torn himself from her - it was a surprise she had held it together so well thus far.
Her brother was useless, she'd come to decide then. He had been of no help, no love had been held in his embrace when he'd tried to comfort her and repair her shattered heart with empty words. How painful it was to deal with lost love once more, it was as if a curse had been set upon her to ensure that love and happiness never fully was granted to her.
Her husband had vanished and died in a month's time.
Her child had been murdered before its time.
Her new love abandoned her and Regalia.
Not even her own brother had treated her kindly, saying simply that he'd predicted her abandonment and that she were a harlot - of all things a brother could call his younger sister, he chose the most painful, yet the most truthful.
She was a harlot, she knew this well. She knew it every time she'd smiled at another man when her lover had his back turned. She knew she had it coming, that eventually he would give up on her being faithful, give up on her sneaking off with pitiful excuses to lie with another.
Why was she liked? She was a terrible person, really. She'd broken more hearts than she ever planned to, than she ever took credit. She betrayed and broke people. Used them for their trust, and money, and empty love. Her best friend was basically her sister, and yet she'd used the woman for blood and as a tool behind her back. The baron was used for empty nights and funds. Her own lover, one she promised she truly wanted to marry, looking back was someone she never planned to be with, they had spent their times together throughout a period where neither was going anywhere. They used each other willingly.
Her fist never landed on the mirror that she so desperately wished to shatter, to no longer look at her own image. Instead she sunk into the waves of misfortune that had been cursed upon her years ago when she'd lost her mother, father, and brother - something she could say because even though her brother lived within the same city, they no longer were truly on each other's side. It hit her hard, this was her own fault.
The abandonment.
The death.
The loss of love and family.
It was her own fault by betraying each and never rising up to catch them when they stumbled. The worst part was that she knew, deep down that she did not regret it. She lacked something to really care for all the pain she put others through and knew that she'd do it again.
How dare she?
