The Sins of Our Fathers

XII The Journal

I spun around the room with my arms outstretched as I marveled at the size of my room. The foyer was no comparison to the luxurious room before me. White wooden panels lined the bottom half of the room framed by the same crown molding as the foyer was which set off the pale lavender and gold wall paper. In the center of the room against the far wall was a canopy so large most hotel swimming pools were smaller. An elegant cream bedspread with outlines of golden roses was laid across the oak bed decoratively adding to the wealthy feel of the room.

Going to the heavy wooden doors on the right wall I found a walk in closet full of close from every walk of life around the world. Ranging from the direst rags I'd ever seen- including those I'd worn- to ball gowns fit for royalty. Each part of the closet was broken up into the different types of clothing worn around the world. My eyes skimmed over the hanging labels at the top: India, Mexico, China, France, and the American clothing. Finally my eyes rested on the section belonging to my home country: Russia. Beside that was a tiny section that held very little, but instantly felt like home, a simple wooden label at the top read Neoma in gold script.

Warm looking black sweats, jeans and a wide variety of dark colored work out clothes filled the section as well as a few simple, but dressy tops.

My eyes searched the closet continually until they found what they were looking for: a small wooden panel that had come loose on the floor below the American clothes.
Going to it I pried the small section away from the rest revealing a small rectangular hole a little bit bigger than my father's journal. Smiling I replaced the board and went back out into my room.

Quietly I walked to the large bed that I could now call mine I scanned the room for any sign of surveillance. Finding none I flopped down on the bed and crawled to the top of the bed where I lounged against the cushioned headboard. Checking one last time for cameras I reached into the upper part of my jacket where I had secured my father's journal and pulled the old worn book out.

Flipping to the second page where I had left off I read the slightly faded handwriting and lost myself in the words my father had written so long ago.

•••

Before I tell you what my plan is you must first know why. Humans are cruel, destructive things. We destroy everything around us whether that is our intent or not, it is simply our nature. We mock those who are different, calling them hurtful names until their unique outlook on this horrible world has been curbed, making them just another one of society's cookie cutter people.
I want to reset the world, I want to erase all of the pain.

I have seen the damage even our good intentions can cause, and the truth is all we can do is turn everything in our path to ash. Even the emotions we deem good eventually turn on us leaving us broken and alone. Love is the worst of all, it makes you happy and joyous only to send you crashing back down when it's gone. Family, even they fail you- the pain of seeing the hate in your daughter's eyes when you tell her what you have done in hopes of gaining her forgiveness and instead receiving her disgust. Your mother leaving you alone when something better came along. I grew up on the streets learning the finest skill mankind truly has to offer: surviving.

But soon we won't even be able to do that anymore, not if I can fix it.
When I was younger the pain of loss and loneliness burned so bright in me that I alone could have replaced the Sun in the sky, but I grew up and cast off those chains and locked away my feelings to make something of myself. And I did. It's not enough though. We need to undo the damage we've done here and let the world heal itself.

Others have said the same exact things and been labeled, but they did it for the fame, for the satisfaction of knowing that their name would live forever in infamy, but I don't want recognition. I want an end to the pain a chance for someday a new beginning. Recently I have discovered a means to make my dream a reality and so dear reader here is the first step into a new age:
Find Cornelius Collins.

•••

A door slammed drawing me out of my father's journal. Quickly I threw the journal under the pillow of the bed and wandered over to the floor to ceiling window, stating out if it like I'd been there the entire time.

"Neoma!" A chipper girl's voice called through the thick mahogany door.
"In here." I yelled back waiting as the door swung open to reveal Davina and Adrian clad in loose fitting silken clothes. I raised an eyebrow at their clothing unsure if they were attempting to match or if it had just happened.

"Here." Adrian huffed tossing a black bundle at me.

My arms reacted before my brain did catching the bundle as it floated towards the ground. "What's this for?" I asked.

"Training. Get dressed." Adrian barked before turning and leaving me with a frowning Davina.

She sighed loudly as she walked over to where I stood and grabbed my arm. "I'm sorry about him, I'd say he's not always like that, but he is."

"It's fine, I can't say I'm much better."

She smiled. "No you're much better, I promise. Now come on let's get you ready for training." Then Davina pulled me away from the window and forced me into my new life.

(Hello everyone!!! Sorry it's been so long, but I have had no time to write! Anyways great and wondrous news!! I have decided to write a sequel to The Sins of Our Fathers! It's going to be called Ashes of the Fallen, and well you'll see what it's about by the near end. So as always thanks for being awesome and reading and please vote and tell others!)