I, psycho.

Chapter Fourty

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"Your turn," Naum said, handing me a glass of whatever he was drinking.

He'd long since graduated from bourbon and moved to mixing whatever he could get his hand on.

"I have a feeling you're gonna need it", he said with a mock toast.

I chugged it down, reveling in the burn that came with it.

"Well, unlike you guys, it was mostly mummy issues for me. I could see it even when the rest of the world couldn't, the problem wasn't my father, or my weird sister, it was her.

"My mother was never satisfied with her lot in life, even before she got married she had already started killing in tens, just for the fun of it.

"She was born with a sickly body, you know, so obsessed with finding a perfect vessel to take over. Then, she was forced to halt her search and pushed into marriage, according to my grandmother, it was supposed to make her grow up, to make her see the world with different eyes. The hope was that motherhood would change her. It did.

"It gave her the perfect idea, 'hey, if I can't find the perfect vessel, I can just create one'. It was like a total roundabout, suddenly she was the nice and loving wife and then the nice and loving mother to be" I scoffed, taking Naum's drink from his hand and downing it in one go.

"And then, I was born. Problem was, I was too fucking powerful for her to hook her teethers into and that didn't just anger her, it made her furious, jealous, because I wasn't just powerful, I was the perfect naturally created vessel and of course she wasn't the only one who had her eyes on me. There one another being who lusted over the perfect vessel.

"Before the earth,

before the waters,

before the heavens,

before the existence of nature,

there was nothingness that allowed for nothing,

Savageness so great, it could not be contained,

It had no name,

It existed and yet it did not,

It had no breath and yet it lived,

And all those who were touched by its savagery, it kindness,

Whispered, endlessly, a single word,

Nwälita.

"She wanted me, bonded with me even before I was born rendering me one step away from my mother's claws. Of course that only fueled my mother's lust for my body. She reasoned that if she couldn't directly control my mind, she could control the minds of those around, weaken me, mentally, physically, until my barriers were unable to stop her anymore.

"So she manipulated my father, she made him love me with all of his heart so I could find solace in him, and she kept at it, kept making him love me, more and more and more. My father was powerful, so a part of his mind was always aware of what he was doing, he knew what she wanted and he wanted me to give it to her, to give me to her.

"I would have, only Nwälita wasn't having any of that. When mother saw that father's actions were not enough, she had my sister. During her second pregnancy, she wasn't leaving anything to chance, she severed the connection of my sister to her natural fae, making her incomplete from birth, the perfect mind to control.

"And even though I knew it all, Nwälita was kind enough to make sure I knew everything she planned to do even before she thought it, even though I knew that my sister was just another way to break down my mind, I couldn't not love her.

"She was my blood, she suffered with me, cried with me, laughed with me. For a child stuck in a home filled with madness she was my escape, but also my captor. My mother did everything to break me down and my grandmother ignored it all. She turned her eyes away, 'better me than the Monarchy'.

"She chose to leave her little grandchild with the monster she'd birthed instead of explaining to the world why and how a descendant of the Matriarch could do something like that.

"When eternal torment wasn't cutting it, mother released the hold she had on my father's mind. I was there, I watched as his eyes cleared from the mind control, watched the blood drain from his face, the self disgust, the pain... He couldn't live with himself. He killed himself and my mother made sure I knew that it was all my fault.

"I tried running, I hid, very well. For two hundred and seventeen days, I hid from her. The most painful and happiest days of my life. Of course even then, I was already battling with various mental illnesses, things were hard without meds but it was better than the home I had escaped.

"But it wasn't the lack of meds that got to me, it was the fact that in the two hundred and seventeen days I had spent running, my mother would spend every moment skinning the flesh off the bones of my sister's body and then spiking uncontrollable hunger in her for flesh.

"I would watch her burn in agony one second, and then scramble over her own flesh the next, like a dog, a beast, my little sister. My mother, with her mind mojo would play it over and over again in my head. Like a show on repeat. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I could do nothing but watch her in pain. It pained me to watch her but not as much as it pained me to feel such guilty relief that I wasn't there anymore. I was so glad, so happy and I felt horrible for it.

"So when my sister finally found me in that bunker, I put my hands around her neck and chocked to death, she didn't struggle. I stared her in her eyes because I had to do it with my own hands, I owed it to her. Do you know what she did as my hands chocked the life from her, she projected what little happy memories we'd managed to share in our miserable lives, and then, she smiled. My little sister was kind until the end, not even my mother could take that from her.

"When my mother found me, she was very surprised that her death hadn't broken my mind, she didn't know," I giggled menacingly, "I had broken, I had shattered into pieces, but I had also put myself back together and every mismatched piece was strongly put together than ever before. I would never break again.

"She gave me people who delight in breaking the minds of little girls. Again and again she carted me to different men, woman, to creatures I'd never set my eyes on before, people whom the world thought they'd rid themselves of. None of them worked.

"And when her frustration made her lower her guard, I ran away, I hid, in a place she never thought to look for me, in the hands of people like her. Destroyers, abusers, the worse, the better because she would never believe I would voluntarily put myself through hell again. I hid until I forgot myself, until all that mattered was hiding, but what I never forgot was why, whom, what I never forgot was the blood, the pain and my guilt. I never allowed myself to forget my sins--"

"You need to" Azaezel said firmly, "you need to learn to forget and forgive your sins"

I laughed. I laughed until tears flowed, until I was chocking on snot, until all that came out of my mouth was an anguished roar.

"Forgive my sins?" I asked with a silly smiles, "how can they forgive me? They're dead. Even if they weren't, my sins cannot be forgiven, they cannot be absolved, because at this point, I am my sins..."

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To be continued...

Wow!

That was deep.

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