Midnight Musings

May 4th

I don't know you'll ever find this. Likely, I'll have burnt it long before you're tasked with traipsing through what remains of my belongings after my premature demise. If you do lay eyes on these pages, know that I envy you. I envy the solace you find in words. My feeble attempts prove pitiful in comparison, yet I need such solace now. I fear I've done something terrible. Something for which there is no absolution. You would call it selfish at best, horrific at worst. I put pen to paper to explain my logic in the hopes you'd understand why, but my explanation rings hollow. I am bored. Terribly, endlessly bored. Four times in the year since I rid the world of one of its most evil inhabitants I stared at my revolver weighing death versus mental stagnation. I couldn't carry on as I had. It was a sad sense of relief when my failure became apparent. I hadn't realized how desperately I wanted to fail at this one enterprise. But it came at a high price. Time may prove it to be an exorbitant price. I am hardly given to flights of religiosity, but I feel the weight of my sin upon me nonetheless. I struck a deal with the devil himself. May heaven have pity on us all.

-Except from Unmarked Journal

Solitude of the Season

A moment of silence passed as soft flakes began leisurely drifting down from the inky blackness, the first of the Christmas snow. The knight knew this grief all too well, the grief of being forced to lose everything before you were old enough to comprehend precisely what you'd given up. To be turned over to the order when you were barely old enough to walk. Raised by strangers, taught to read, write, fight. Never allowed to laugh or cry much less play like a normal child. Leaving ones family behind along with the possibility of ever having a family. Being told comfort would be found in faith and books, but never in the arms of another. Being forced to live and die for a God you had no choice but to follow because to deny him would mean disgrace to yourself and all your kin. Maybe he had seen more than a promise to a dying friend in the platinum haired child he agreed to mentor. Perhaps he had seen more of himself than he cared to admit.

Curses!

I think I've been cursed. And no I don't think I am being melodramatic with this assertion. I have no other way to explain the run of luck I've been having lately. And oddly enough it appears to be spreading to those around me. Don't get me wrong, I come from a Greek family. I was in high school before I realized not every crucifix came with an evil eye pendant hanging next to it. Superstitious? Yes, sir, I am. It's part of why I isolate. If you don't annoy anyone or provoke anyone's jealousy, then maybe you can dodge a bullet. I am, I think, more susceptible than most. Murphy's Law has a little too much fun with me. So I am going to keep my head down for awhile and try not to provoke the wrath of the whatever from high atop the thing anymore than I have. That and it's time to dust off the evil eye pendant again.