contemplations

Sometimes I like to pretend I'm the good guy. That what I'm doing isn’t horrendous or horrible, foul and disgusting. That I'm doing it for some greater cause, something bigger than me. But in reality I only do it out of my selfish gain.  I've known since a young age that I was different. I wasn’t like the other girls and boys who played dolls or superheroes. I always wanted to do things my way, no exceptions.

Which led to a lot of alone time which looking back now, I am grateful for.

This alone time helped me to become what I am today. That alone time gave me the time and motive to look deep into myself and understand the inner and outer workings. Why I think the way I do and why others think the way they do. Why I'm not like everyone else. It came as a sense of peace to me to finally be able to answer those questions.

And honestly I haven't looked back since. 

My mother would be so ashamed of me I'm sure. She would look at me with those big ignorant brown eyes and scream why am are you doing this, what happened!!

When in reality I know for a fact that she's seen it all along. There was no way she couldn’t have. I saw the way she looked at me as a child. The darkening of her eyes every time i entered a room. She rarely smiled or talked to me growing up, but she would insist that it was never the case. She would lie as she usually does. My father would be ashamed as well but I think in some sense he would be proud. 

To see his boy doing something I consider great with his life. Playing god is a lofty title, I say and I think one that would make his hard set mouth upturn just the slightest, the shadow of a smile. That when I know I've made it when those who used to put me down and shove me in the proverbial and metaphorical dirt, applauded and praise my master work.

I think the time for that will be soon honestly. 

You see some people become great, right? and some are destined for greatness, but nobody ever recognizes those who are born from darkness, understand? I worked hard and diligently to be where I am today, mastering thousands of skills the average human mind could never comprehend. But because of who I am, my great achievements will be immortalized forever but will also have a dark stain on them. Casted away as something bad instead of something truly great. 

You look at the poor girl as she whimpers. Her eyes wide and tear stained. You can tell your little speech didn’t move her as much as it did the last girl, Vanessa? Was that her name, you think. Sighing you realize there's no hope for this light weight aristocrat to ever understand what you’ve gone through, so without further a do you kiss her cheek softly. Tasting the slight saltiness of her tears. 

And in an arc that would impress any conductor, you watch as her life bleeds out slowly from her pale porcelain neck. There's something fascinating to you as you watch the dark ruby seep down and soak her clothes before dripping into the bathtub you have her placed in. 

"I would have kept you around honest! But you just lacked the enthusiasm you understand?"

You grab her blonde head and make her nod, mimicking a high pitch voice "yes yes I understand so sorry” you laugh and wipe the blood of your hands.

You pull out your notebook and begin to sketch as you do all your little lovelies. 

“Diana: Aristocrat. Lacking enthusiasm. Number 336”

*** authors note:

Sometimes it truly is fun to get a little weird, to think of what a villain would be thinking, to give a snapshot of their background within a little scene, that carries so much and yet so little. We know a lot about this male character, but also nothing at all. Those are my favorite short stories.