EDGE OF TWO SHORES

Perspective ♦

I never knew how to seek attention. At the age when everybody was maintaining a relationship and either sinking or sailing that boat, I was just coming out of my coon and dismissed such indulgences. I was a straight-A student and unfortunately in the company of people who hoped to live their life out of inheritance money. I belonged to what one could call a barely rich family and had a isolated in lifestyle of my own choosing.

My mother died of uterus-related infection just a few weeks after my birth. "Your mother, sweetheart was one hell of a woman. She had the power to ease anyone's pain in an instant," my father would say in his cranky loud voice. At the same time, he admired the edges of his wine glass. "Your lovely face, sweety trust me is all because of her, all of it. I have nothing to do with that" he praised her often, sometimes when drunk and sometimes when he is feeling down. 

My father owns a large share in a big Public-Private Industry, a proficient yet simple businessman, and I never heard him being angry at anyone. he worked hard, very hard for my liking. He would wake up at 5:00 A.M and disappear before I woke up. he would make breakfast and would scream from the front door to not forget to lock the front gate before I leave for school. He would come back sometime between 1:00 pm, make lunch and do the laundry and rest of the housework before I return from school.

I usually arrive right at the moment when he would be advising someone on the phone and simultaneously keeping his eye on the frying pan. We would enjoy the lunch together, he could ask the same question and I would answer them like I did since forever, but somehow through this mundane talk, we would reach topics never about which we never talked before, things that don't exist and things we hoped were real. He would end his lunch and while he picks up the plates carefully lifting them, I would turn on the television while he was at the sink.

"Did you read the book I bought last week?" he bought a 14-year-old Princess story books, most girls come out of these feminine fantasies by the age of 11 and those who don't, end up growing weird or narcissistic, that's what I believe. I replied in negative to his question.

"You know, what Nyarlathotep is?" I asked keeping my eyes on the television

"Yes, I do... " His voice rang, with a sudden mighty and proudtone

"Tell me then?"

I read random books in our school library and come up with things to ask him. He would enter the room, vigorously wiping his hands on his apron.

"Nyarlathotep is a character which was first found in the great Cosmic Horror Author - Lovecraft's poem called Nyarlathotep. Nyarlathotep is an evil god that can shape-shift into over a thousand distinct forms. This beast is so scary in its original form that one glance is enough to drive any man to insanity. When it takes the form of a human, it turns into many figures to influence and shape the human society. This sinister man reels in the mind of his followers. He is horrible beyond anything one can imagine; he is horrible because he looks to be a saviour when he lives amongst us. He also got arguably the coolest nickname ever ... 'the crawling chaos'. " He looked at me with a raised eyebrow with a sign of superiority for he had defeated me again

"He kind of sounds cool."

"But I don't want you to be reading Lovecraft anymore, I don't want you having weird dreams and again some of his works are problematic by... today's standards."

"It kinda of stinks that Nyarlathotep is just fiction, it would have been awesome if he were to exist."

"Well he does exist; " he smiled . Maybe he is out there somewhere becoming something new and far more dangerous. the only difference being his goals, what's makes him so difficult to understand. unlike in fiction, in reality he's made of skin and bones. He is still pulling his terrible games and yet at some level, everyone shares a similarity to the god created by Lovecraft."