Pack Queen ( under editing)

Chapter 35 : ptolemaea

Chapter 35: ptolemaea

" Suffer dose the wolf crawling to thee offering a big fire or any fire saying I'm the one he's gonna take me , I'm on fire, I'm on fire I'm on fire , suffering is nigh crawling to thee , calling me the one  I'm  the white light beautiful finite " — Ethel Cain

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A good person? What exactly even is that. I always thought I was bad , well at least on the inside, I always felt an affliction for my thoughts , the need to correct my own emotions of anger and resentment. I don't think good people exist , I think we're all just bad and if we could have it our way each and everyone of us would. we'd get back at those who have wronged us , humiliated us and left us to rot.

Suffer those who suffered us , I think good people aren't unburdened by such emotions . I think that they tame them , pushing them back because it's the right thing to do . your not good because you do good your good because you want to do bad and you stop yourself every single time . I could empathize for the homeless, the down trodden and unfortunate, I could raise enough money save the world but that means nothing if , given half the opportunity I'd stain myself with the blood of those who curse me one good deed doesn't make you a good person but one bad deed can .

I couldn't explain it to you but ever since childhood hour I have felt an irrational amount of guilt . An have always had this compulsive desire to be moral. To be " good". I believe there is a certain guilt to existing, a need to prove your worthiness to live . A need to matter , and it is this burden that we all have inside of us. This guilt of not being worth the air that we steal . This fear of our lives meaning nothing , this guilt of a waisted existence, The more I think about it , the more silly it is.

Being born into a world with no explanation as to why your there , always left to wonder your purpose and the purpose of everything around you . Desperate to prove you deserve the life that you can't much explain., now that I think about it , it's sort of just sad

Sometimes I think I was born hateful , that it was hereditary something that was passed down to me an inheritance of sorts. the rage of a thousand mothers, a thousand fathers , a thousand children stretched back as far as the history of man , all inside me  my rage their legacy   My mood haunted , all of us the outcome of a small death , a  yet pleasurable release . How violently we make our way into the world tearing through that portal into a new realm.  How violent  we are truly,

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" we have to talk about it". My father said following me  down the stairs , the last thing I wanted to do was talk about this with him. I didn't care how close it was to happening , there was nothing my father could say that would resolve this peacefully.

" no we don't ". I said going into the fridge

" I'm going to have a talk with her Mother see if I could somehow work something out tomorrow ". His father told

" dad she's not going to agree to some backwater arranged marriage it dosn't matter what college you promise to get her into , it dosn't matter how much money we make or offer she hates me ". Mason explained

" c'mon mace she doesn't hate you , where's that McCann charm , she just doesn't realize that she like you yet". My dad said I stared at him blankly .

" Finn and her broke up because of me , her boyfriend is going to turn because of me , I was cruel to her for the better part of 3 years , and you think what I get her a bouquet of flowers and some chocolates and she'll leaver her boyfriend for the guy that messed up her life". I explained