(no subject)
Pardon my English again. >_>
You see, before I fell asleep, I had this weird idea... And I thought, hey, why not?
64. Beginning
“Lavaridge Town, May 11
Archibald called this afternoon, and Maximilian, who is currently a guest at our house, forbid me to oppose his visit. I detest Archibald. He is rude. He smells of fish. He hails from a family of boat dealers, one, furthermore, that is slowly falling from grace.
He is not as instructed and refined as Maximilian and I, yet he has been telling Maximilian that he will soon be transferred to the same private elementary school as us. I hate how Maximilian sounded happy and excited about the news. I pretended I was in that mood, as well. I cannot stand Archibald and I do not even want to imagine what having to encounter him every day will be like.
And what I detest the most is how Maximilian calls him a friend, and plays, and goes out, and spends time with that little Primeape when he would be better off with me. Can he not see that Archibald and we are on entirely different levels? That we, gentlemen of blue blood, are several notches above that oafish nephew of fishermen?
But I find myself unable to blame Maximilian for anything. One day, I will marry him. And on that day, I will be wearing that beautiful white dress decorated with rhinestones, which Mother keeps in her bedroom closet. That splendid dress was only worn once, on the day of Mother’s wedding with Father. She always says to me that the second time that dress will be worn will be on the day of my own wedding.
It will indeed be so, but I will be the one to wear it.
I love Maximilian, and his heart should not belong to anyone else.
Today, while we were playing in the drawing room, I think Maximilian gave Archibald a kiss on the cheek while I was not looking. After turning around and seeing Maximilian’s face so close to that loutish monster’s, I froze. This is why I am currently writing this. I cannot sleep. That terrible image lingers, impressed in my mind, kindling the fire of a thousand questions whose answers I am not sure I want to know.
But I know what to do. I will separate them. Forever. I swear to Groudon I will make them hate each other to death, no matter what it takes.”
Edmond Flamberge closed the diary, and swept the remaining dust off the cover, which was upholstered in fine brown leather. When did he write this, again? The date on the front page read, “1970”. He was eight years old when he wrote that page…
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft sigh from his friend behind him.
“Remind me, Edmond… During our childhood, when my interests weren’t as different from Archie’s as they are now… The three of us used to be the best of friends, wasn’t that so?”
Edmond put his old journal back in the drawer where it belonged, and he turned around in his chair to look at Maxie. “Ah, yes, most definitely. I remember all of our wonderful days together. We were so carefree back then… It’s a pity Archibald decided to make a clean break, isn’t it?”
You see, before I fell asleep, I had this weird idea... And I thought, hey, why not?
64. Beginning
“Lavaridge Town, May 11
Archibald called this afternoon, and Maximilian, who is currently a guest at our house, forbid me to oppose his visit. I detest Archibald. He is rude. He smells of fish. He hails from a family of boat dealers, one, furthermore, that is slowly falling from grace.
He is not as instructed and refined as Maximilian and I, yet he has been telling Maximilian that he will soon be transferred to the same private elementary school as us. I hate how Maximilian sounded happy and excited about the news. I pretended I was in that mood, as well. I cannot stand Archibald and I do not even want to imagine what having to encounter him every day will be like.
And what I detest the most is how Maximilian calls him a friend, and plays, and goes out, and spends time with that little Primeape when he would be better off with me. Can he not see that Archibald and we are on entirely different levels? That we, gentlemen of blue blood, are several notches above that oafish nephew of fishermen?
But I find myself unable to blame Maximilian for anything. One day, I will marry him. And on that day, I will be wearing that beautiful white dress decorated with rhinestones, which Mother keeps in her bedroom closet. That splendid dress was only worn once, on the day of Mother’s wedding with Father. She always says to me that the second time that dress will be worn will be on the day of my own wedding.
It will indeed be so, but I will be the one to wear it.
I love Maximilian, and his heart should not belong to anyone else.
Today, while we were playing in the drawing room, I think Maximilian gave Archibald a kiss on the cheek while I was not looking. After turning around and seeing Maximilian’s face so close to that loutish monster’s, I froze. This is why I am currently writing this. I cannot sleep. That terrible image lingers, impressed in my mind, kindling the fire of a thousand questions whose answers I am not sure I want to know.
But I know what to do. I will separate them. Forever. I swear to Groudon I will make them hate each other to death, no matter what it takes.”
Edmond Flamberge closed the diary, and swept the remaining dust off the cover, which was upholstered in fine brown leather. When did he write this, again? The date on the front page read, “1970”. He was eight years old when he wrote that page…
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft sigh from his friend behind him.
“Remind me, Edmond… During our childhood, when my interests weren’t as different from Archie’s as they are now… The three of us used to be the best of friends, wasn’t that so?”
Edmond put his old journal back in the drawer where it belonged, and he turned around in his chair to look at Maxie. “Ah, yes, most definitely. I remember all of our wonderful days together. We were so carefree back then… It’s a pity Archibald decided to make a clean break, isn’t it?”