Esoteric Truth
Junior Member
"Fair enough. You have let me into your life to some degree, and I suppose I owe you the same," Damien sighed, looking over at the pale red headed boy who was grimacing at his beer. How did he tell his story without seeming so privileged? Without his own miseries looking pitiful and pale in comparison? He didn't, and he knew this. This innocent teenager before him dealt with so much, dealt with knowing his own demise was not so far off, and yet he was quite possibly one of the most genial and polite people around. Damien was not the kind of person to deal with that situation in that way, and he admired Merriell for being able to be like he was. Especially with the family he had to deal with. He owed this kid his story, so long as it was being asked for.
"I grew up in France, if you can't tell. My parents were very happy. We did not have much to want for. I grew up being dressed in suits and placed at tables, like an accessory to my family, a pet they would show at dinner parties. It still was not bad. I had anything I wanted, almost. And I learned so much. I had a very good tutor, and I traveled with my father sometimes. I went to England and Germany and all over Europe. Over there all of the countries are so close, so it is not very hard. But of all of these places, France was my home.
"When I was eleven, we were in our rural house in the countryside of France. There is a river that ran past that house. I woke up that morning and there were shouts and flashing blue lights... When I went outside there were police everywhere and I- I looked over to the bank and there were her slippers," he murmured, his voice choking. He could see them there, sitting on the river bank, light pink. The little strands shaking slightly in the light breeze. For him they symbolized everything he lost that day. "When they found my mother, they confirmed she caused her death. She filled her bathrobe with rocks and stepped into that river. It is a funny thing about those slippers. She took the time to take them off. As if she was worried about ruining those slippers. I think I- I hate her for that. She cared so much about what happened to those slippers, but did not care about what would happen to us when she was gone.
"Not very long after, my father tells me he is dating a woman. She is Kate, an american. I hated her. She tried to be my mother. She called me poor thing and wanted to do the things with me that my mother did. She would cook me american food, talk about her home. And I hated her for it. Then they married. But I had my home, I had my father, and I had my company. So I bear it. Then we move. My father says it is for the company, but it is for her. Before, in France, I had my tutor. Here he put me in school. And I was angry and upset because I had lost my home, and I got bad grades. And he would get mad at me for that. And I longed for my homeland, but I had my father and my company, so I bore it.
"Tonight I was riding on my horse. For hours I was gone. I used to do that with my mother. When I got back into the stable he was there and he told me we were having dinner and I came inside and changed and when I sat down at that table I knew. It was sickening. The way they looked at each other. The way he held her hand. I wanted them to die. I want them to die," Damien snapped, his jaw clenching as he turned a steely gaze onto Merriell, as if daring the other boy to correct him, to say this wasn't true. But as quickly as this anger had risen within him, it was gone and replaced with the same deep sadness which had earlier plagued him. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, attempting to shield himself from this vulnerability. "Kate is pregnant. My father managed to start completely new. He has replaced his home, his wife, and now his child. I do not have my father any longer, and I only have half of my company ahead of me. Half of what I grew up knowing would be my destiny. I am not good enough at anything else to have any other life. For me, this is my only option. It is all I have left, and it is slipping away too."
He could feel that his breathing had grown ragged, and by the tightness of his throat he knew that the urge to cry was once again upon him. But instead, he laughed. And perhaps this was worse. It was a tired, bitter laugh, the kind that belonged to someone who had truly given up expecting things to turn out alright.
"I knew this day would come. And yet I had hoped and somehow convinced myself that it would not."
"I grew up in France, if you can't tell. My parents were very happy. We did not have much to want for. I grew up being dressed in suits and placed at tables, like an accessory to my family, a pet they would show at dinner parties. It still was not bad. I had anything I wanted, almost. And I learned so much. I had a very good tutor, and I traveled with my father sometimes. I went to England and Germany and all over Europe. Over there all of the countries are so close, so it is not very hard. But of all of these places, France was my home.
"When I was eleven, we were in our rural house in the countryside of France. There is a river that ran past that house. I woke up that morning and there were shouts and flashing blue lights... When I went outside there were police everywhere and I- I looked over to the bank and there were her slippers," he murmured, his voice choking. He could see them there, sitting on the river bank, light pink. The little strands shaking slightly in the light breeze. For him they symbolized everything he lost that day. "When they found my mother, they confirmed she caused her death. She filled her bathrobe with rocks and stepped into that river. It is a funny thing about those slippers. She took the time to take them off. As if she was worried about ruining those slippers. I think I- I hate her for that. She cared so much about what happened to those slippers, but did not care about what would happen to us when she was gone.
"Not very long after, my father tells me he is dating a woman. She is Kate, an american. I hated her. She tried to be my mother. She called me poor thing and wanted to do the things with me that my mother did. She would cook me american food, talk about her home. And I hated her for it. Then they married. But I had my home, I had my father, and I had my company. So I bear it. Then we move. My father says it is for the company, but it is for her. Before, in France, I had my tutor. Here he put me in school. And I was angry and upset because I had lost my home, and I got bad grades. And he would get mad at me for that. And I longed for my homeland, but I had my father and my company, so I bore it.
"Tonight I was riding on my horse. For hours I was gone. I used to do that with my mother. When I got back into the stable he was there and he told me we were having dinner and I came inside and changed and when I sat down at that table I knew. It was sickening. The way they looked at each other. The way he held her hand. I wanted them to die. I want them to die," Damien snapped, his jaw clenching as he turned a steely gaze onto Merriell, as if daring the other boy to correct him, to say this wasn't true. But as quickly as this anger had risen within him, it was gone and replaced with the same deep sadness which had earlier plagued him. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, attempting to shield himself from this vulnerability. "Kate is pregnant. My father managed to start completely new. He has replaced his home, his wife, and now his child. I do not have my father any longer, and I only have half of my company ahead of me. Half of what I grew up knowing would be my destiny. I am not good enough at anything else to have any other life. For me, this is my only option. It is all I have left, and it is slipping away too."
He could feel that his breathing had grown ragged, and by the tightness of his throat he knew that the urge to cry was once again upon him. But instead, he laughed. And perhaps this was worse. It was a tired, bitter laugh, the kind that belonged to someone who had truly given up expecting things to turn out alright.
"I knew this day would come. And yet I had hoped and somehow convinced myself that it would not."