Lost For Words

IDENTITY

The world is simple in the most twisted way. How so, one may ask? Well in the very reason that, one simple enquiry cannot be satisfied with an absolute and irrefutable answer. In the very reason that, morality is rewritten and obscured by such enquiries. In the very reason that, man's ideals of pursuing much forbidden frontiers make the very earth they tread, suffer in their wake. Is it not twisted how simple all these could be easily solved? Does it not make your blood boil that the command man cannot execute happens to be the simplest?


Stop.

Infuriating, is it not? Absolutely maddening. But, it happens that these are the most dominant emotions I harbour, but for a different reason. The rage, the hate, the madness; all these raw emotions, flow with my blood, so compatible with it that it is unnatural not to have an ounce of these within my bloodstream. One may ask; How do I know that they reside in me or not. Well, imagine this. These emotions are what people call ugly_ revolting_ vile. They do not have the same aura nor precedence as the happier and lighter emotions. They simply do not have the same taste. It is as simple as that.

Betrayal.

The vice of the century, but in my case, the vice of the day. The maddening, infuriating and absolutely tethering word of the day. Did I foresee this? Yes. But my shock lies in somewhere else. That is, in all my days, I had never thought, I dare say, expected to be had in this manner by my parents. My own flesh and blood.

Thrown into the vast see to swim away from its creatures, is how they taught me life. It was harsh but effective, quicker and inspirational. Not in any day have I questioned their methods, never have I disobeyed them nor turned down their requests. I worked to be perfect for them, to earn my stay, as they termed it. However, what fruit did unquestionable loyalty bare for me. A huge platter of deceit, sprinkled with a set up, then washed down with cold betrayal.

I scoffed at that. Sanya Yamanaka, is what they named me. My parents, the very one's that sent me on a wild goose chase, to retrieve a golden opportunity that never existed, at least not for them. And I, the mindless retriever ‘called’ Sanya Yamanaka. I loathed myself and everything I possessed, and that would include my entire being as I had neither assets nor land to my name. Sanya Yamanaka.

“Fuck me.” I groaned at my thoughts, frustrated by my ignorance thus far.

The place I woke up in was unfamiliar , with a sense of familiarity. The stealth wear I had on was nowhere in sight while I was adorned in a silk black nightdress. Not only that, I could catch a scent of something familiar in the air. Sweet, subtle and serene. The fresh smell of lavender candles. Well, processed by all means, yet natural. I then sat up to look at my surroundings, scope the level of threat I might be faced with.

Yet as I sat up, I was met with nothing but a spacious room. Save for a formal looking arranged desk and black leather office chair, stationery behind it. As my drowsiness cleared I also spotted a painting, it’s contents questionable yet its dark gradients fitting the aesthetic setting of the bedroom. I merely looked around the bedroom, appreciating its dark themed hues, a fluffy looking black rug at the foot of the bed. Considering that I was still alive, caution was unwarranted for, yet. I allowed myself to be blissfully ignorant and appreciate the fine decor before my demise.

However, I had been seated on a huge bed draped with black silk sheets, much like the fabric I wore, and surrounded by lavender candles. It was fairly peaceful and no one had come to grab me as if I were an insignificant sack that could be thrown around as the carrier pleased. I winced at the thought, rolling a shoulder, feeling the strain my shoulder joint faced due to grabbing and yanking from the day prior. My heart sank at the thought. Was it ‘the day prior’ any longer? How long had it been since that day.