Josephine

𝓔𝓹𝓲𝓼𝓸𝓭𝓮 56: 𝓗𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓸𝓶

August 01, 1976

The void has consumed me. I feel nothing but darkness. Tomentous, empty darkness, eating away at my soul. Conroy's funeral helped the darkness. Losing my only friend to some assassin. It seems as though everyone I ever care about will die. My father, brother. At one point, Vittorio. Now Conroy. I must be cursed, it is the only explanation for the awfulness in my life.

I feel worthless, helpless, meaningless. I feel as though I have no purpose. Nobody will miss me if I die. What's the point of it all? My depression has bottomed out, the demons torment me every waking minute.

"Your majesty? We've arrived at the palace,"

I looked at the nobleman who told me this and nodded weakly. The car we were traveling in stopped. The mood was just as downhearted and glum as I felt. Though they had no clue how I felt. They wouldn't... couldn't possibly understand.

How almost every day for the past five years I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. Or for those times where a man would try to take my own life for them to succeed.

The door to the car opened and I stepped out. The other nobles followed suit and they followed me silently back into the palace. I barely noticed the storming rain that soaked my hair and black dress. The guards opened the doors to the palace and I walked in, leaving wet footprints on the floor from my shoes.

"I need a drink, I don't know about the rest of you," Lord Humberto said.

"I agree, this day has wrought upon emotions I haven't felt in a long time," Lord Trondheim replied.

"What about you, your majesty? A drink?"

I turned to the men.

"No thank you, I'm thinking of retiring for the evening, I have quite the... splitting headache... do you think the doctor could get me some Tylenol or something?"

Even Lord Humberto, one of the most conniving bastards to ever walk the Earth appeared sympathetic.

"Of course your majesty,"

"Thank you,"

I turned and swiftly walked up the stairs away from them.

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A few minutes later, I was frantically scrawling away with a pen on a sheet of paper.

Life is funny, isn't it? One moment you're alive, and the next you're not. What is death like? Is it cold, or welcoming? This is something I have wondered about for many years. When I am dead, I will finally be at peace.

I don't care who takes my place, they'll do a better job than me. I have done nothing but warmonger, my actions have led to the deaths of millions, I cannot live with this any longer. I. Want. To. Die. Now my wish will finally prevail.

Who will miss me anyway? All those who ever cared about me are dead! The greedy nobleman will probably be glad that I'm gone.

I am leaving this mortal plain and I couldn't be happier.

-Josephine, former Empress of America

I placed the paper on my bed and waited. Waited for my instrument of death to arrive.

A knock on the door signaled its arrival.

"Enter," I said coolly.

The door opened revealing a kind guard.

"Your majesty, I have the medication you requested,"

"Give it to me,"

He did as he was told and the bottle found its way into my hand.