The Regal Secrecy

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

Would my life had been different if she didn't die?

I was told that my mother was the epitome of a perfect woman, at least that's what they say.

Many would envy her because she had everything. Beauty, Wealth, and Love. A beautiful soul with a philanthropic heart, men would flock to her like sheep. Was born in an aristocratic bloodline, yet different from the stereotype of a noblewoman.

My mother stood out from the rest in my father's eyes, and so did hers.

She had his heart and he had hers.

She loved him and so did he.

But did he?

Did he love my mother?

I was told that Father was always so distant and cold towards me after I was born. It was my fault that my mother died after all.

She thought her sickness was a burden and didn't tell him. It was because of me that her sickness worsened.

My father blamed me for my mother's death. He resented me, he despised me, loathed to take revenge for his wife's sake. That man would dream to burn me at the stake, telling me that I was a cursed child.

As his daughter, I'd stare at my reflection and wonder if I truly am a cursed child, just like what he says.

I'd stare at my reflection if I really was their child.

I'd stare at my reflection, wondering what my father and mother could have looked like.

I don't know and I don't remember. I was too young to understand what was going on. I was only 4 years old after all, yet I somehow managed to remember what they said but not their faces.

Maybe it's because of what I endured that I remember it all.

The children did not like me. Is it because of my family? My past? My face? Or is it because their parents told them to stay away.

Nobody wanted to play with me.

Nobody wanted to talk to me.

Nobody would want to be with me.

I wouldn't want to either. I'm a murderer. I killed my own mother. I killed the woman whom my father loved. I killed the person who everyone adores.

I don't deserve anything, do I?

The guilt only devours me as the years of living passes by. My reflection would torment me, as I see the same alleged face as my mother's every. single. day.

I would look like a clone, younger than her. Eyes would be on me 24/7 outside. I couldn't hear but only see what they were trying to say.

The food that the maids would make for me, tasted delicious. But I didn't like it. I didn't like how I enjoyed it when I don't deserve it. There are others who clearly deserve more than I do.

I'm cursed, I'm supposed to be alone to avoid tragedy.

I'm shouldn't be near to civilization, to let them live in peace.

I should be far away, where no people can see me.

And that's exactly what my father did.