Why me?

05 | ♛

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It was around 2 a.m., and I couldn't sleep. The house was dead silent, apart from the soft snores next to me. Since my dad wasn't in the country and after my mom died, the house didn't feel like home, and in all honesty, it never was. I spent most of the time sleeping at Trystan's, he would crash here too sometimes, but his bed was bigger.

I was tucked under his arm and his head was nuzzled in my hair. Feeling his warm breath fan my neck, I became envious of his ability to fall asleep once his head hit the pillow.

I turned around in his arms careful to not wake him. Trystan always had a sense of innocence when he was asleep, his sharp features were softer, and his lips weren't scowling or kissing me or threatening to kill someone.

My eyes landed on his right shoulder, directly where the intricate tattoo of my mother's name rested. Why does he have my mother's name inked on him? Because she was just as much of his mother as she was mine.

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" 1...5...7...10! ready or not here I come." My younger self giggled, I padded down the large and vast corridors that I had eventually learned my way around.

I peeked and barged through the heavy timber doors. My impatience had gotten the best of me as I huffed in frustration, where could he be?

I've checked all the rooms, that garden, and the basement. The only place I hadn't looked was the attic, mom forbade us from going into the attic.

Knowing Trystan he probably had, but against all warning, I made my way up the minuscule staircase. Opening the trap door, the first thing I had seen was the beautiful dresses that laid in the open wardrobe, there were paintings scattered around the room, some finished and some not.

But there, sitting on the dresser was tiny Trystan looking at a picture of a woman with long and loose dark curls that closely resembled his, she was in a pure white elegant wedding dress, smiling brightly at the camera, but even I could see it wasn't genuine.

I squeezed myself into the chair, my feet not touching the floor. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears and I didn't know what to do in this situation, but without warning, tears began to fall onto the picture frame.

The first thing that came to my mind was what mom did whenever we fell and scraped our knees, it always managed to stop our sobbing.

I turned to face him and grabbed his wet chubby cheeks I kissed below his eyes, kissing the tears away. He gave me a watery smile and hugged me.

"Kids it's dinner time?." Mom yelled from the kitchen. We scuttled out of the basement and up the stairs.

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The sun was rising above the horizon. I was slipping in and out of consciousness at this point. Filtering through memories sad and happy, until I fixed on my mother.

Marie Genevieve Perth was secretly Wonder Woman. She worked for Mr. Martyr after Trystan's mother had disappeared from their lives, he took care of Trystan for a few months once he was born but his business had been failing in his absence. So he enlisted Marie to live with, care for, and raise Trystan. This was two years before I was born and a year before my mother had married.

She loved Trystan like her own son, he wasn't treated any differently either, if he stepped out of line she was always there to check him.

Then two year years later I came along, she had taken time off of work to have me and a new woman had taken her job.

Trystan tried his best to scare the poor women into quitting. As for me, my father raised me since my mom lived with the Martyrs. He was unemployed at this time and we could more than live on my mother's salary and Mr. Martyr's generosity.

Mom went back to work when I was 3, this was when she finally took me to the place where she spent so much time. It was intimidating, to say the least, how only three people lived here baffled me, I soon lived at their estate once Mr. Martyr proposed that it would be a good idea for Trystan to have a friend and for me to see my mom more.

That was the first time I had seen him, he was smiling laughing, and giggling with my mom as she made silly faces at him.

But it all stopped once he caught sight of me, he hid behind my mother's long skirt peeking around it as he tugged at her hand.

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"Who is that?" He asked and I looked up at him, I felt a pang of jealousy in my chest.

"That's my daughter, Gwendolyn." She ushered me over, waddling towards her I grabbed onto my mother's hand possessively. "Why don't you guys play with each other whilst I make a snack." We both nodded as she went to the kitchen.

Trystan started towards a huge door and pushed it open, all there were toys scattered haphazardly, and he suddenly sat down in the center.

"I've never had a friend." He said with an overwhelming amount of sadness in his tone.

"I don't have any too," I replied, I sat down opposite the fluffy-haired boy, he looked up at me with a genuinely happy smile.

"Then be my friend." He said with sincerity. The jealousy disappeared and was replaced with nothing but love and adoration for the troublesome boy.

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