"Why don't you just leave me alone?" I spit at him, the anger laced in my voice angered him and I loved it. I watched as he clenched his jaw, staring at me as his eyes darkened; walking up to me, soon towering over me making me realize how small I w...
MATTHEO RIDDLE IS yasmineamaro . CALANTHA, KASSANDRA, AND NICCOLÒ ARE MINE. ALL OTHERS UNLESS MENTIONED ARE JK R*WLING'S
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T R I G G E R W A R N I N G
SWEARING, BLOOD, ABUSE
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N I N E
MATTHEO
I SHOULDN'T have opened up to her. I let my guard down, I should've just let her leave. I didn't even hesitate to tell her who Thalia was, and I was so stupid. Maybe I'm growing weak again, or maybe I just need to remind myself of how powerful I am.
I can't do that again-- open up to her --it would only make her grow more attached to me. But wasn't that the plan after all? Wasn't it my Father's request to make her trust in me, rely on me, wasn't that what I was supposed to do? And not only that, but wasn't I supposed to want to do it? It was fun-- at first-- but after I let her fall asleep in my arms, I found no more amusement in playing with her. I found no motivation to want to do what my Father asked me to do, no matter how much I knew it needed to be done, and no matter how much I knew I was going to have to see the entire plan through, I didn't want part of any of it anymore.
And everytime I looked in the mirror, and I saw myself, and I looked at the scars or the faded bruises, I hated how they were there. How they were inflicted upon myself by my Father, sometimes even the people that worked for him-- how I let him do it all to me --I hated myself for it. But at the same time, I loved the pain, the torture, no matter who was doing it or how, I liked the feeling of my blood rushing through my veins, the feeling of a sharp blade being carved into my back, or even the sound of my yells echoing throughout the corridors of my family's Manor-- I loved all of it.
Not only did I find amusement in being in pain, but that of watching others in pain. Watching others be tortured, especially when at my own hands. Muttering curses and watching the light leave someone's eyes, seeing them take their last breath, not even knowing what hit them before they have the time to realize that they're going to die. It was pure power, inevitably, and I was hungry for it. No matter who was being controlled, who was hurt, I didn't care.
Calantha wasn't in Potions class and the underwhelming idea of wherever she could be stayed on my mind; I was completely focused on her unknown whereabouts, ignoring Snape's feeble attempts to make me come back into the room only after storming out of it. It was the middle of a discussion and I couldn't focus on anything else-- I had to find her, I needed to know where she was --she was my responsibility now. I hadn't seen her all morning, didn't know how she slept or how she was dealing with what happened at the party, I didn't know if she'd eaten in the last two nights, or if she had begun to hurt herself just as I used to. Worries like these, they took me over-- completely.
