Trails of Intertwined Stars: Chapter 74 {Part 1}

~Chapter 124: The Very Start~

"As you already know, I was considered a...useless child to my family. Duncan was to be the Master, the sole heir. Leora was to be his bride, despite not being fully English. And I was...nothing. I was a boy, yes. But I had no claim. No title. No acknowledgement. I truly had no purpose to them, and everything I ever did was always in Duncan's ugly shadow. I was even in Leora's."

That summer's day, my family and I were out for a party; as my father often invited many people into the manor grounds. One thing I chose to change later. We assembled for a photo, and I remember trying to stand with Duncan and Leora; squished by my parents and grandparents. When they forced Leora to the front, I fell behind, and they took to the photo with me hidden out of shot. I remember the toddler glancing back at me, smiling. It felt like she was mocking my misery in a way.

I got sick of the garden party, so went back to the manor quite bothered by the whole thing. Why was a girl of all people better than me? I remember frustratedly looking into the foyer mirror, only to see my own face looking back at me. It was then I realised I deserved better. Why couldn't I be a proper little gentleman like Duncan? Why couldn't I have attention like Leora? Suppose that was what made me come to the terms with how unjustly I had been treated, and how desperately I wanted everyone to know that. That I was the true heir of Mohan; not those other two. And then, I saw, one of the patterns on the frame of the mirror. It was an acorn, and stuck out a bit. I remember feeling like I deserved it, and deserved my claim on the house; after all, I should be the man of the house, not Duncan. I remember hacking the little thing off with my nails, before yanking it off and rightfully taking my trophy.
"What Henry doing?"
I remember whipping around, flustered, hearing that annoyingly grating voice. Leora stood there, in her equally annoying summer outfit; holding our mother's hand. They had just come in to take a break as well. I remember my mother's face. That look of anger, and sheer disappointment at the fact she'd raised a 'thief', not a young man. I remember that dreadfully loud slap she'd given me across my face, before snatching my hand and dragging me away. As she did, I remember glaring furiously back at my little sister, who stood there in the foyer; tilting her head, oblivious she'd brought my suffering. I remember watching her run down the hall to our father, as he fondly pandered over her, whilst our mother took me to the old classroom on the third floor to furiously lecture me on stealing.

"I think by that day I had decided I needed to be the man of the house, at whatever cost. Even if it meant knocking down my family in the process. So can you blame me that day? When I-"

That cold evening, Duncan made his way towards the river; ignoring the fog that blurred and distorted his perceptions of where each bump in the ground was. He was unnaturally aware where to avoid, even without said guidance; carrying himself in such a way that it'd be impossible for him to trip. He knew the garden like the back of his hand. He reached the edge of the bank and stared down at the murky water, his eyes wide; as he tried to make out the blurred reflection of himself upon the water surface. The fog danced upon the surface and sent a chill down his spine, despite the amount of clothes he'd put on. He spotted something odd in the reflection of the water, and squinted to make it out. When that didn't help, he crouched down; cautiously, trying to discern it. It was a dark shape that seemed to distort with each ripple within the water. Suddenly he recognised those vengeful eyes looking at his.
"Henr-!"
My nails dug into Duncan's back, desperately trying to push him in; causing the boy to yell and try to struggle. He fought against me, as if he had some sort of death wish. With a decisive tug, I shoved him so his face was only an inch away from the icy depths.
"Let me go-!" Duncan strained, gritting his teeth, furiously.
I slammed him down; sending him into the churning depths. The boy burst for breaths, horrifically trying to struggle against the icy waters.
"HEL-P! HELP!"
The water seeped into his throat, filling them. I remember staring at him that day, waiting till I was sure he'd drowned and never come back.