It is from the corner of my eye that I witness a rather large creature breach the water like a shard of rock breaking glass. In that moment it seemed that the world froze and if it were not for my own imagination, I may have believed this gigantic creature may-hap also looked upon my countenance as if it were contemplating my existence in such a way that I do my own. If it were any other human being this moment may have brought tears to their eyes, but I could never weep in such a way. It was only sea mist that had sprayed upon my visage. A man such as I could not allow such emotion. Even upon remembrance of my parents and their passing. Upon this very ship where I now stood by the young man who shared the bunker adjacent I. The same man who after murdering my parents witnessed me and froze in fear. It was at this time that I do remember wishing he fell into the sea by his own execution and may have passed on. I am quite unsure of what may have happened to him but now...
WAIT!
Why am I only remembering these events now and only at this time? The facts of such an event are disturbing indeed but it seems that I have hidden these things from myself. Or some hidden process or mechanisms has kept these things from me and left me in the dark so to speak. It would not be too difficult to now take revenge as this young man was not much further from my own current breathing space. And I do wonder now if this is what that blasted key brought me here for. To kill. To take life. To do so would be a blatant disregard of my current values, although it would not be too much to discuss his dismissal with a fellow pirate.
If you do recall the woman that I spoke of eon's ago who in her own deliberate disobedience choose to not follow presumed roles for woman on this continent and instead picked up the sword. You would remember she was quite the swordsman. Some may believe and would have said swords-woman, but I prefer what I have first told. If you were to disagree it would not be too much to ignore such chickens with their heads cut off, running amok and delirious. As for this woman it would be my own desire to wed her. I shall tell you the truth, as I may not let any one person, or many read this diary in its entirety.
I have multiple times proposed to her and found her uninterested of such a man such as I. It is quite puzzling would you not agree? If any other woman found that a person with such considerable wealth that I have attained were still here and desiring to push some disgusting band upon her finger, they would grovel and back flip at the chance to be entertained by a god. Would you not think that this was a moment that any person would desire? She in her delirium decided that my offer was not to her liking and mentioned to this person that she wished for a man with a kinder heart.
Now listen to this young readers. Is it not I who have shown through out this diary that this heart is beyond thoughtful, sweet, gentle and giving? Does this not sound like the foolishness of one incapable of human, intellectual thought? This woman? How dare she reject a King. A god. A treasure of the highest order. It was my decision to let those about me know that I indeed had rejected her and not her I. As in no way would I allow such embarrassment upon my person. However, it does allow for the question in this case if I might say...
What is a kind person or a good person? What did she mean by such a thing when she has perfection before her? This might be a question that I may ponder for the few days left. I do not know how long I shall be here as I have pondered the UN-a-living of my newly found foe. I shall wait until another time and ponder these things further. Both life and death. Marriage and burial. For now, I shall rest and think upon this joyous occasion on the 'morrow. If I take this man's life, then my parents will continue living. It will bring joy to such a weary spirit. This vile creature who took what I loved most. His death would be an achievement worthy of my memorial. I shall truly ponder these things and over time come to a decision most beautiful.
YOU ARE READING
How To Survive In A Dump: The Diary of Mr. Thaddeus
FantasíaHis name is Mr. Thaddeus. A young man born into wealth and prestige writes of his experiences with those who now serve under him from his own unique perspective. One that he speaks on the greatness of his own estate and himself. That is until a ver...
