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You are my creator, but I am your master. —Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
There were dark deeds and bad seeds, but who cared if the house was falling apart as long as it was pretty, right?
I wanted to get into a little trouble. I wanted to catch some rain, find something that made my heart pump again, and I wanted to know what it was like to not have anyone to grab onto.
If I went to a new city, with new people who didn’t know my family, would they even give me the time of day? Would they even like me?
“Go to school, then. Make new friends and leave everything here behind all you want, but your demons will still follow you. There’s no escaping them.”
Chess would teach me strategy, fencing would teach me human nature and self-preservation, and dancing would teach me my body. All necessary for a well-rounded person.
Beware the fury of a patient man.
And it was October 30, the night before Halloween. Devil’s Night.
“Pretty girls always have something to trade in, right?”
What a prickkkkk
The closer you got to anything beautiful, the less beautiful it became. Allure was in the mystery, not the appearance.
“The shy ones tend to be the baddest after all.”
“You’re here because you’re like me, Rika. You’re here because there are enough people who try to tell us what to do and try to keep us in a box.”
“They tell us that what we want is wrong and that freedom is dirty. They see chaos, madness, and fucking as ugly, and the older you get, the smaller that box gets. You feel it closing in already, don’t you?”
“There are too many people that try to change us,” he went on, “and not enough people who want us to be who we really are.
“Own who you are,” he commanded. “And don’t apologize. Do you understand? Own it or it will own you.”
“Drugs are a crutch for people too ignorant to self-destruct on their own.”
That’s what I was trying to find out. Without my family name and their money, without my connections and their protection, what was I capable of?
