08-13-2020, 12:45 PM
This particular diary entry is written in a letter. One which will never be delivered.
Dear Philip,
Was I ever your friend to begin with. Or was I only a subject in need of your protection. When I gave you Spot, was that as a gift, or did you view it as a noble tithe. You’ve acted so humble for so many years. You’ve acted so kind-hearted for so many years. I still view you as my friend. I always will. No matter how many times I spit the name Petrakis at you. It’ll never feel genuine, it will never feel real. You’re Philip, after all. Always have been to me, and you always will be. But, I was never Anira to you. Was I?
Every time we sparred I would tell you that you were getting better! Improving. Congratulate you. When my side was inevitable? I was sad when you could not defeat me. I made it clear, but you never cared did you? I was only ever a subject. My thoughts, my turmoils and the struggles I’ve gone through and continue to go through. They never mattered to you in the slightest. It was always about what you could and would do. What you were fated to do. What you were designed to do. And even now, all you do is look down on me.
I may only see Philip. But I know better now, don’t I? You’re a Petrakis. It is as I said so long ago. All of you would be able to lift your weapons against me. No hesitation. No remorse. But I? To simply have the will to fight and maintain my values? Required a drug. To snuff out my woes. Because to me you are human. But to you? I was an obstacle. Even in youth. That’s all I was to you. A notch to best, to get closer towards. You’ll deny it, and act humble. Or try to gaslight me and convince me otherwise but I know better. Do you want to know how I know better?
It’s easy, really. When we fought, I gave you the ultimatum. Join the machine, drop your name. Become apart of something real. Instead you preached about how you if it would make me feel better? To strike out. You stood upon a moral high-ground instead of facing me like a human would. And then? The bit that bites harder than all of it? You mocked me. You mocked how close you were, you rubbed it in my face that you were escaping uninjured. Did you think you leaving unscathed via a healing elixer would spite me? Did you want the last laugh, the final bitter word? I was relieved. Relieved you weren’t dead. Relieved that your body would mend. Relieved that you weren’t permanently mangled or worse...
No, it wasn’t that which drove me to rage. It was what you said. Your words were condescending. You spoke down to me. You mocked me, about the closing gap, about how no matter what? The light would mend you. Because you knew it would upset me. Where I wanted you to survive and be free. You wanted me to suffer. Just so you could have that final spiteful chuckle. A Prince looking down on a thuggish commoner, claiming his victory.
And in that moment? I hated you. I hated you more than I have ever hated anyone in my entire life. And because of that pure hatred? I faltered, and did something I will never truly forgive myself for. I used innocent people to draw you forward. I threatened the lives of real, frightened and passionate mortals. Just so I could spite you. And now... Now I hate myself for it. I may never overcome it, it may always haunt me. But you don’t care, do you.
No. When I came to check on you? You had spoken to Avery of a life for potential children of yours who were not burdened by your surname. I felt so... So frustrated. I had to ask you why, when I only wanted to check on you. And what did you do? It wasn’t your belief in the stars and the divine that upset me. No, you upset me when you called me a child, a little girl, hiding behind the wolf. You have no idea who I am. Or what I have been through, or the constant internal struggle I have had for years upon years...
But you don’t care. You never cared. I was always a subject, an obstacle, and now a threat. Someone to hurl insults off from atop your golden throne. Someone to be your verbal punching bag. It was then that I realized... I was your friend, but you were never mine. My biggest insult to you? Was disagreeing with you. My heinous crime? Was calling you Petrakis to try and distance myself from you.
I will always be your friend, Philip. But you? You were never mine.
Sincerely,
Lieutenant Anira Cog
Dear Philip,
Was I ever your friend to begin with. Or was I only a subject in need of your protection. When I gave you Spot, was that as a gift, or did you view it as a noble tithe. You’ve acted so humble for so many years. You’ve acted so kind-hearted for so many years. I still view you as my friend. I always will. No matter how many times I spit the name Petrakis at you. It’ll never feel genuine, it will never feel real. You’re Philip, after all. Always have been to me, and you always will be. But, I was never Anira to you. Was I?
Every time we sparred I would tell you that you were getting better! Improving. Congratulate you. When my side was inevitable? I was sad when you could not defeat me. I made it clear, but you never cared did you? I was only ever a subject. My thoughts, my turmoils and the struggles I’ve gone through and continue to go through. They never mattered to you in the slightest. It was always about what you could and would do. What you were fated to do. What you were designed to do. And even now, all you do is look down on me.
I may only see Philip. But I know better now, don’t I? You’re a Petrakis. It is as I said so long ago. All of you would be able to lift your weapons against me. No hesitation. No remorse. But I? To simply have the will to fight and maintain my values? Required a drug. To snuff out my woes. Because to me you are human. But to you? I was an obstacle. Even in youth. That’s all I was to you. A notch to best, to get closer towards. You’ll deny it, and act humble. Or try to gaslight me and convince me otherwise but I know better. Do you want to know how I know better?
It’s easy, really. When we fought, I gave you the ultimatum. Join the machine, drop your name. Become apart of something real. Instead you preached about how you if it would make me feel better? To strike out. You stood upon a moral high-ground instead of facing me like a human would. And then? The bit that bites harder than all of it? You mocked me. You mocked how close you were, you rubbed it in my face that you were escaping uninjured. Did you think you leaving unscathed via a healing elixer would spite me? Did you want the last laugh, the final bitter word? I was relieved. Relieved you weren’t dead. Relieved that your body would mend. Relieved that you weren’t permanently mangled or worse...
No, it wasn’t that which drove me to rage. It was what you said. Your words were condescending. You spoke down to me. You mocked me, about the closing gap, about how no matter what? The light would mend you. Because you knew it would upset me. Where I wanted you to survive and be free. You wanted me to suffer. Just so you could have that final spiteful chuckle. A Prince looking down on a thuggish commoner, claiming his victory.
And in that moment? I hated you. I hated you more than I have ever hated anyone in my entire life. And because of that pure hatred? I faltered, and did something I will never truly forgive myself for. I used innocent people to draw you forward. I threatened the lives of real, frightened and passionate mortals. Just so I could spite you. And now... Now I hate myself for it. I may never overcome it, it may always haunt me. But you don’t care, do you.
No. When I came to check on you? You had spoken to Avery of a life for potential children of yours who were not burdened by your surname. I felt so... So frustrated. I had to ask you why, when I only wanted to check on you. And what did you do? It wasn’t your belief in the stars and the divine that upset me. No, you upset me when you called me a child, a little girl, hiding behind the wolf. You have no idea who I am. Or what I have been through, or the constant internal struggle I have had for years upon years...
But you don’t care. You never cared. I was always a subject, an obstacle, and now a threat. Someone to hurl insults off from atop your golden throne. Someone to be your verbal punching bag. It was then that I realized... I was your friend, but you were never mine. My biggest insult to you? Was disagreeing with you. My heinous crime? Was calling you Petrakis to try and distance myself from you.
I will always be your friend, Philip. But you? You were never mine.
Sincerely,
Lieutenant Anira Cog
I swear I'm not...
![[Image: 6d7a3f4d84055aacec42e9e916296a47.png]](https://i.gyazo.com/6d7a3f4d84055aacec42e9e916296a47.png)
![[Image: f6b263cfa536c446e088c6c6a5d319e7.png]](https://i.gyazo.com/f6b263cfa536c446e088c6c6a5d319e7.png)
I'm not owned guys.