I put up with it because I'm half there, half conscious, half alive, but maybe deep inside that empty shell is a deep cut that stings with alcohol like a bee.
Fuzzy liquid, the same color as red, coming up from my skin, and it hurts less than your words to my ears. Your tongue is like a knife, slaughtering all in its path, and I am the meat that so unfortunately gets caught every time.
Awaiting your pain to bring me back every time, sympathetic because I have known you for a while. But the best cuts come from the ones who are closest to you.
Thick or thin it does the same damage, more harmful from the ones you known longer, tears can't make up for the internal malware that has been implemented a long time ago.
Still doing damage even when it's been taken out, no plead nor piece of green can give happiness to something that was no longer there. Not smiling through the pain, yet everyone around you now starts to treat you like you're invisible.
Death wouldn't be viable since the world still screams with you here or not. Yet since you grace the presence of this forsaken land, hell will come for you in the worst ways possible. Either emotional or physical, simple cries will only relieve the pain for a moment, but for the majority of your mortal life. Please wear the thickest armor you can find, made with the toughest material, for the creatures of the land will not go easy on you.
A mere sample of your flesh is the grave mistake to your demise if you aren't prepared. You can try to hide in any castle you wish, but the curse of mortality will sicken you with age and hunger.
Theieves within your own walls will steal from you, your most prized possessions, whether valuable or inexpensive.
As long as you breathe in the oxygen on this earth, everything will try to end the very flesh that covers the outside of your bones.
Chipping it away like the very erosion that conquers nature, it will be the most difficult battle you will ever face. But if you manage to stay alive, it will be the most important battle ever won, the most satisfying.
At the end of it, you will be worn out and tired, but the relief of the battle being over will be enough. Once the internal conflict is defeated, nothing else will ever seem like a significant challenge, and the tears will simply be a memory.
"Victoria, maybe it is my assumption, but when you speak at times, it's almost like there are sorrow in your words."
I gaze out at the valley beyond this mansion with a small smile; the green pasture is simply remarkable, swaying in the wind. Each blade is a different size yet none of it matters in the overall picture and the ocean..
Well, it is enchanting, the way the color changes from a light pastel blue to a dark Azure depending on where the water is. It is almost like a painting from a historical museum.
I take a deep breath, turning to Bertram with my fingers held tight to my head, "I think there is a bit of sorrow in us all, none of us are truly ever happy. Not in the way we strive to be, I belive that each experience gives us a little bit of day and a little bit of night."
Lady.Bellum put her elbow to the table and made a sort of pucker expression with her eyebrows lowered, "Is that supposed to be a good and evil expression? Almost like the historical symbol?"
I nod, "I suppose in a way yes, just that for all the good and evil that hits us, some of the direction might strike us more than the other. That is where the true essential essence of humanity would come in." I give her a glance and she doesn't seemed amused more peeved at my metaphorical tone.
"Is that all, Lady.Victoria?" She questioned, as a part of me knew it would be best to be slient yet another part just couldn't end the conversation.
"Part of me would also like to look into studies on how numbers and metaphoric roles play a part in modern society and how it begs more competition and hostile behavior out of human beings."
"Wouldn't that mean you would be apart of it considered how numbers are a big part in how your own estate is ran? Without numbers humanity wouldn't have anything of true value, not anything that made them work for it."
"What about family?" I question and she puts a hand on her face, bearing a toothy smile, "It is all apart of the numbers game, of making sure your legacy doesn't die out with the mere years you were given on this planet. Having that essence part of you makes a person hope that they will live to a better standard then they ever did." She places a finger in the middle of the table, "For us, all that was built before our time must be multiplied and we must show our parents that their offspring was worth taking a chance on."
She held out a hand and placed one on her brother's head, "As you said before, our parents have two chances to make their legacy work but with you, any mistake you make will be twice as bad on their part. They can't redo something they already put all their faith into, so while you are a competitor at the same time you have way more to worry about than either of us."
"You are treating us all as if we aren't people ourselves, sister, as if we are replaceable?"
She shrugged, "In her terms, it is as if we are, and the person you admire so much, brother, seem to only see you as a checker piece that can simply be tossed off the board."
My jaw nearly dropped, "I never said that, where did you-"
"Maybe, not exact words, but don't act as if we can be friends, Lady.Victoria, we have status, a given purpose."