Standing Creation - ♥ Avangift Sarogroft.

Standing Creation - ♥ Avangift Sarogroft.

Chapter -9; Little girl erased from existence. Sovereign hair pulled from existence.

He had indigo hair that was the length of a female. He decided to keep it down all the time to prevent being mistaken for a female; he had orange eyes, the color of a brimming fire. He always wore suits with a tie that dragged to the floor, it was his idealistic, stylistic way of dressing, and no one cared to tell him otherwise. He lived in a city with too many flowers. Too many flowers, and he wasn’t sure if it was in his life description to hate them or ignore them, and he was too young to understand it to begin with, he wouldn’t understand it, wouldn’t understand it until he met her, her the girl of his dreams. The girl who he would end up sharing secrets with and loving with his entire life. At the point in time in his life, he was eleven, it would only be five years later he would be in the magical program of Mariibo Rumaibo, it would be two years from then in his life that he would locks of his hair by his own hands and two years before his entire life would change at the hands of insanity. In his current state of mind, he was nowhere near that, he was nowhere near that point in his life at the point of time in his world. A while back he was told, told he was the Sovereign of Control, the Sovereign of Control, and at the time, he didn’t know what it meant, what it even meant to be a Sovereign. He just knew, knew that it was a reason, a reason to separate him from humans. To be separated from humans all the time, and he hated it, but he couldn’t stand, stand against the world’s view. The world’s view was horrifying, and he knew the cruel truth over all.

As the result of being a Sovereign, he was subjected to constant bullying everywhere in which it was possible. The ranges of abuse he took were almost insane. It was as if, as if the children in his flowery village knew of every way in Govmoita to torture and abuse him. The abuse never ended, and it never would. That was what he initially thought in his time of life, and it’s what he always wanted to force himself to believe. The abuse, the abuse had ranged from hair tugging to bludgeoning his side with a cue ball. He accepted it, accepted the abuse as there was no way, no way to get away from the abuse and torture he received from humanity—the terrible fate he had been given at birth. In recent, however he had gotten tired of it, tired of all the abuse he had taken, he wanted to fight back, fight back and injure them the way of which they had done to him, but he wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t strong enough to fend them off. Wasn’t strong enough to fend them off, and he had decided it was worthless, worthless to so much as make the effort, make the effort to get stronger, to get stronger just to give them what they deserved. He knew he would never be strong enough, never be strong enough to do such, and he, for the longest time, did not want to use his human magic, nor his true magic. He didn’t like it, like the world of magic. Evil and terrifying place, the world of magic was an evil and terrifying place. He decided, decided long ago, long ago that it was the case that magic, magic was an evil and cruel power.

His home life was much the same, only the abuse was far worse. His mother, his single mother hated him with every single possible life of fiber in her body. She had always mumbled to herself loudly that she didn’t want to give birth, birth to such a monster, give birth to a monster dreck like him. She didn’t even want to name him, but apparently there had been a law in that world in which all children had to be named, a law that would prevent him from not being named. He had been named Avangift with the last name of Sarogroft. Seemingly, his name made him sound like an animal, and he knew, deep down that was his mother’s intention. It was his mother’s intention to name, name him something that would make him seem animalistic. It was torture, torture having a name like that, but he could do nothing, nothing to fix it. He was abused, abused in worse ways than he could ever imagine, living with his single mother. It was horrible and cruel, but he could never, never stand up to it. He knew in the back of his mind that his mother should have been arrested, arrested for the type of abuse he had been suffering from, but it was obvious, obvious no one cared enough, cared enough to stop her.