Claude has endured dreadful situations that have shaped her life horrendously, becoming unrecognizable. Treated like a doll by her mother and stepfather, she's unable to fight her demons.
Lost in a world of agony and deception she finds an out...
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This sucks.
The halls were almost empty and the bell was going to ring, leaving me with no choice but to go to class. And as the good student I am I abruptly turn around and leave fuming for my following course.
Stumping down the hallway I examine my limp hands, I was trembling with anger. My breathing was erratic and my heart rate was astonishingly soaring. The force I was using to shake away the thoughts was stirring me dramatically, and I still couldn't reel it away. Numerous feelings flooded my mind and it drove me crazy.
Maybe this was meant to be, I mean I have followed all the right steps and signs, and yet the pieces won't piece together. Although I know it's not quite right, I can't resist the need to keep searching. He doesn't need it, but it kills me, and they need to let me be.
Tobias has helped me through this ever since I started to pick on the little things. Noticing that the way I felt wasn't normal, together with the way my life functioned. He has seen me in my darkest hours and I trust him unconditionally, never the less with this confusing subject.
Today, the document he handed me was all the same. Just as the previous ones it said, 'Unidentifiable location... unwanted request... no further information can be delivered... Gian Carlo Delafonte declines contact.'
My father refuses to meet or even face me.
And I know this might be on purpose, but I believe there is something behind it all, but what if not. Thus to be safe, I have consequently studied why or how this may happen. The fact that my father renounces to meet me is doubtful, so I'd consider the possibility that Elizabeth or Batholomew may be onto something concerning this ongoing issue.
As long as I can remember, my mother as much as I try to make her love me doesn't, and Bartholomew is always there to remind me that I am just a chess piece in his little game, his precious doll. And as I fall they are always there making sure I sink even more. Hence I've perpetually had a hole that I've needed to fill but can't, and even though I've never met him- my father- or ever will, I believe he is my sole outlet from my sick life.
From what I can draw, I have no one.
Gazing down at my hands a drop of water lands on my wrist, making me stop hesitantly. Slightly shaking I reach up my bland features and stroke the tears away. Releasing a repressed sniffle, I sigh and pad my semi-wet palms on my skirt. With somehow a satisfied tug on my lips, I look around and walk towards the nearest washroom.
