How To Survive In A Dump: The Diary of Mr. Thaddeus

Tis quite dreadful to think upon such things. But I shall try my best to recall the awful night upon my great grandfather's ship. One that I, to my own disadvantage have tried to ignore for a time past. It should not surprise you dear reader that upon reflection I have suffered something so great since that most dreadful time. A thing that has caused I to struggle to be what I ought. And become something that is entirely not in my current family lineage. Upon my own reflection of, those near I have found many despite their faults, with great joy, except for the one of whom their writing you do clearly read now.

It is of my parents' death that I speak of. Even as I put this ink to papyrus, I find this black liquid mixed with salted tears but not that from the ocean. It is my own weeping that rains forth and floods my cheeks like a rivers' creek upon my face as I witness their demise by the hands of the awful gentleman not yet to be born. An image that I found easy to hide from myself so as to not experience these challenging emotions. Nevertheless, it no longer plagues me in such a way that it once did. As for now, upon drinking of the magical woods, I have found this hurt I once experienced something capable to cope with despite its difficulties. It is not my first time taking of these trees dear reader but have drunk of it since I stood upon this ship as many others in my vicinity have gladly done as well. Merry as can be they seem not to worry about the relentless things in life but find joy in each others camaraderie. A thing I once despised and at times still do but have changed somewhat as I perceived their demeanor.

Let me say however that the fall of my parents was one that was swift. For the young man only swung his sword twice and cut down those beloved that had taught me so much. And a thing that I had forgotten that the young man I had desired to un-alive was the one who ended his own son's terror before it became too much. It is only at this time that I remembered his tears as he fell to the floor and my family consoled him as I looked on. To take your sons life in such a dire situation must have been something no person should ever have to imagine nor experience. And one could only imagine the agony of the taking of a child who had truly done nothing at all. And as I watched the blood from my parents leak from their bodies with my mother's face in her own juices and my fathers hand reaching out to mine with the same smile. I grimaced and ran to barrels that I hoped would both hide my presence and give me comfort. And it was their dear reader that I began to think myself better than any else and plotted how I might destroy the world then rule over it so that they may feel the pain I felt even at this time. But now this desire has left me, and I find myself with these emotions but a desire that no other should ever feel the same.