My story
Everyone leaves me, in the end. Everyone. Right from the moment I was born.
My father was the first. He didn't even stick around to see me come into this world; I never knew him. I shouldn't feel too bad about that I guess; Marius tells me Father didn't stick around after his birth either. Mother was the first one I really remember though. She died when I was three. I can't remember her very well any more. Just the most beautiful pair of green eyes, and long silky red hair....
So I guess Marius is the only family I have. But even he didn't want me. It was Marius who put me in the dance academy. This little three-year-old orphan. I didn't even know who he was; this tall white-haired stranger who never spoke to me. The dance academy teachers were the only family I knew. I was ... very lonely there. But one finds ways to cope. To survive. Even if some of those coping methods are ... less than ideal. Or healthy. You do what works. You get by. In a way though, I was happier at the academy than I've been ever since. I had talent; I was a good dancer. And despite the loneliness, I did find a measure of acceptance there.
Until the night of the fire.
They thought me dead. They left me to die. I was trapped; my leg crippled. But somehow I made it out. I still dream....
My home was gone. I found a new one; on the streets. And that's where he found me.
He ... made me ... he ... did things to me. Punished me ... I did what he asked. Had to. To survive. I think he ... broke me. Or I broke. Somewhere inside. I don't think I've ever been quite ... whole, since. But I deserved it. Every blow. Every cut. Deserved it. Asked for it. Not in words perhaps, but in deeds. Actions. Acting out. I came to ... to ... welcome it.
Love isn't all roses and chocolates, you see. Love is bloody, raw, pain. He took me. He possessed me. Body and mind. I was his plaything, to do with as he would. In the end, I came to love everything he did to me, every violation of my body, because it meant he cared about me. I meant something to him. I was his possession.
But even he didn't want me. He abandoned me, in the end. I was too scarred; not pretty enough anymore.
So I was on my own again.
I thought... maybe my brother ....
He can't even bear to look at me now. He's retreated into a bottle. I can't reach him....
Everyone leaves me, in the end.
My father was the first. He didn't even stick around to see me come into this world; I never knew him. I shouldn't feel too bad about that I guess; Marius tells me Father didn't stick around after his birth either. Mother was the first one I really remember though. She died when I was three. I can't remember her very well any more. Just the most beautiful pair of green eyes, and long silky red hair....
So I guess Marius is the only family I have. But even he didn't want me. It was Marius who put me in the dance academy. This little three-year-old orphan. I didn't even know who he was; this tall white-haired stranger who never spoke to me. The dance academy teachers were the only family I knew. I was ... very lonely there. But one finds ways to cope. To survive. Even if some of those coping methods are ... less than ideal. Or healthy. You do what works. You get by. In a way though, I was happier at the academy than I've been ever since. I had talent; I was a good dancer. And despite the loneliness, I did find a measure of acceptance there.
Until the night of the fire.
They thought me dead. They left me to die. I was trapped; my leg crippled. But somehow I made it out. I still dream....
My home was gone. I found a new one; on the streets. And that's where he found me.
He ... made me ... he ... did things to me. Punished me ... I did what he asked. Had to. To survive. I think he ... broke me. Or I broke. Somewhere inside. I don't think I've ever been quite ... whole, since. But I deserved it. Every blow. Every cut. Deserved it. Asked for it. Not in words perhaps, but in deeds. Actions. Acting out. I came to ... to ... welcome it.
Love isn't all roses and chocolates, you see. Love is bloody, raw, pain. He took me. He possessed me. Body and mind. I was his plaything, to do with as he would. In the end, I came to love everything he did to me, every violation of my body, because it meant he cared about me. I meant something to him. I was his possession.
But even he didn't want me. He abandoned me, in the end. I was too scarred; not pretty enough anymore.
So I was on my own again.
I thought... maybe my brother ....
He can't even bear to look at me now. He's retreated into a bottle. I can't reach him....
Everyone leaves me, in the end.