The air always smelled of oil, gas fumes and fresh blood when I walked through the factory.
The screams that echoed along every crack of the walls stopped sending shivers down my spine by the time I was 6.
It was just how life always was, it was natural for me to accept it. After all, we as humans adapt to our surroundings or we die due to the conditions.
The screams didn't seem so horrid because I knew whenever I heard them I'd see mama.
As I got older I realized papa did this for me to associate the screams with something good so I'd become happy when I heard them.
Papa was huge and scary, but mama.. Mama was warm and she made me happy, So very happy. Because to her I was exactly what I was, a child.
Her child.
At first, Papa let me see her whenever I wanted, until he saw I was used to the screams, then Papa only let me see her once a week, he never gave me a reason why and... I didn't ask.
Because we never, ever Question Papa.
I only smiled at Papa when he told me I could see Mama.
Mama was sick. Papa touched his temples whenever he complained of the inconvenience her existence brought, saying that weak woman could not even leave her bed. I think he resented her for it, for being weak I mean.
Id only be allowed to stay with Mama for 30 minutes and shed embraced me throughout.
"Did you miss me Belle?"
Oh how I loved her voice, it was always so sweet and soft.
Her lavender hair always smelled like freshly baked apple pie, Delicious and cozy.
With her, the screams of all those families being shredded that reached her room were easily ignored, after years of hearing it, it became annoying.
At the age 10 I remember the annoyance I felt as I thought to myself, "why can't they just die quietly."
Papa had done his job, he realized it almost immediately. He realized when my blue eyes solidified completely, he realized the moment I no longer saw them as human but as pesty sub creatures who were only worthy of life when he said them to be.
I am truly my father's daughter
But it was okay, because I still had mama, I could still embrace her and bathe in the scent of strawberry candles mama kept in her room to keep the stench of blood out.
Slowly but surely Papa saw to me seeing Mama less and less, I think it was because a part of my eyes would always soften when I left the room.
Papa hated that.
By the age of 16, Papa only let me see Mama when I made him happy. The problem with this was that Papa was only happy when peoples bones were grinded into dust.
Papa was the islands leader.
A god to the people.They never questioned giving up either themselves or their children to him.
He called them sacrifices for the islands prosperity. He called them heroes who would be remembered.
I'm not sure if Papa meant this or not but the people believed it and so did I because we don't ever question Papa.
Papa said we would be just like any other island if we didn't get enough blood to supply the islands greenery with it.
Afterall we were known only for the crimson leaves and grass. Nobody would pay to see an island like any other.
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Straw hat || Luffy × Reader
Fanfiction"Monkey D Luffy" you look into his rounded eyes, a smile so wide you couldnt ignore it even if you tried. "nice to meet ya", he says laughing with one arm keeping his straw hat to his head and the other stretched out to you. You hesitated, looking d...