The atmosphere turned frigid. My veins became vessels of disillusion and brought a lump in my throat. It was then that I caught a reflection in the dim light. The inestimable piece appeared to be a ring, color of stones and the sky before a storm. As I considered the material, its complexion had awoken faded memories of the tales my father used to tell me when I was a little girl. Which brought me to realize these stories weren’t only myths..
He lied to me…He lied to me all along.
Alone in that mausoleum, I held the funeral of my ignorance, tears of woe alternating with fury and deception. In this merciless world, my father had always been my only source of solace. How could this be real? As lost as I was that night, I suffered the torments that only orphans experience.
This can’t continue.