.I'm your biggest mistake. [lysander]

[lys]

&&. gun.grave .&&

....

Property of Lysander Deimos Sinclair.
If found, please return.

beware the phantom

[lys]

Entree .o1

The First Day of the Eleventh Month; Death of Ezra Pound, American Poet, 1972.

It's Thursday... the day after All Hallows Eve. I wonder what poor homes were egged and the likes. There was this one... Ah, yes. Ding-dong-ditch and hope you don't get caught. Surely any who did such had a blast. A dance was scheduled here in order to compensate for Halloween. It makes perfect sense considering this is a realm of magic. How could Halloween not be made something of a deal? I must admit I would be a bit confused otherwise...

On to another topic - Ranka Molohov. Just recently have I met her in the Library. She doesn't seem like the type to run her mouth constantly with no sign of stop though looks can be deceiving. Of that, I know. Hn. I even escorted Sebastiania to the ball... Perhaps I should not have even bothered. Lurking in the shadows would have probably been best. Ah but the decision had already been made and I would have undeniably felt guilty for leaving her by her lonesome. It's no wonder I can call myself a coward so easily.

A coward. I've been pondering that word. I even took the time to look up the definition for it. Coward [n] - a person who lacks courage in facing danger, difficulty, opposition, pain, etc.; a timid or easily intimidated person. [adj.] - (1) lacking courage; very fearful or timid. (2) proceeding from or expressive of fear or timidity. Hn. I don't think of myself as easily intimidated or very fearful. Timid, perhaps and I do lack courage at most times... but I don't believe it all to be fact.

Tch. Troublesome.

A look into more depressing things now. My mother is still stationed in the Hospital and my father is 'away on business'. I don't know who he expects to believe him but I surely do not. The last I head, he was somewhere in the United States. I'm not quite sure where though. Mother hasn't been getting any better. She's been in the same, constant condition for quite some time now and they're not sure if she'll ever get better. I've even found out something. Today. It came in the mail not too long ago though I have been... ignoring it... Hence the term coward. Hn. I can't even face reality. But that isn't the point.

Mother is pregnant. The Medical staff remarked that it was a miracle the unborn babe survived. I have to admit, I'm shocked. Mother never showed any signs of being pregnant whenever I saw her... Was she trying to hide it from me? But for what reason? And, most of all, does father know? If he does... I believe I just have an even stronger reason to hate him for his abandonment of mother. Pregnant and in a hospital bed. What self-respecting man would leave his spouse like that? I never truly thought I would be disgusted by either of my parents but at this time, father could surely drift into that category.

I'm positive I'll end up leaving again. If not before my birthday then on it. I have... fourteen more days before I must depart. Or less. I suppose I should inform Sebastinia... It's the very least I could do. And later I may even tell her why I've been disappearing as I have. I suppose this will be the ending of my first entree.

The End

[lys]

Entree .o2

The Twenty-Third day of the Eleventh Month; Death of Roy Acuff, Celebrity, 1992.

Eight days have gone since the passing of my birthday. Three days have gone since the passing of my mother. Two days have gone since I've found myself despising my father. One day has gone since I left home. Zero days have gone since I've returned here.

I disappeared again without a word to her. I had sworn I would try. I forgot. I'm a bad friend... I think she hates me by now. I'm not worth anyone's care. I shouldn't bother with people. I can't keep promises. I hate myself. Hn. My head hurts. I should lay down and I'm using 'I' too much. Twelve times in the last nine sentences. Ahh... I've been wondering if it's healthy to hate yourself. I don't suppose it would be. As few times as I heard mother speak toward me, I remember her saying that I should always love myself and cherish what I have. Should I not respect those wishes? If for nothing more then to make her happy in Heaven? For that is where I think she is. As inattentive as she had been in my life, it wouldn't be right for her to go anywhere else.

Just for her I'll believe there's a God and a Heaven.

And I remember another saying, "You don't know what you have until it's gone." I suppose that can count for this. I spent a lot of my life upset and disappointed in my parents for ignoring me. To a point, I actually hated them. For my mother, it has declined. For my father, it has escalated. I think... before she died... she was waiting for him to come. If her only son of whom she had neglected would visit and sit by her side, why not her husband as well? That's what gets me. Now... now I can't even fully refer to him as my father any longer. He is a bastard that left a hole in my mother's heart. He wasn't there when she lay sick in bed. He wasn't there when they put her through surgery. He wasn't there when she died. He wasn't there when they lowered her into the ground. He wasn't there.

Right now, I sound like one of those angsting teenagers don't I...? Mad at the world and everything in it. But I'm not. I'm just mad at my father, no one else. Not even the doctors. I know they tried even though they failed. It just pleases to know they truly tried and didn't give up on her. Not until it was too late. That is what pacifies me and mother knew it as well. I don't wish to write any longer... So I suppose this it the ending of the entree. Hn...

The End

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