Envy

All I ever wanted was everything. One small everything for my own.

The True Queen Unassailable spun me out of her envy. She weaved me out of her hunger. She molded me out of her desperation. And yet, I'm not sure if she remembered to give me a soul. I'm too terrified to ask her, of being certain of what I've become.

I was built to connive, to pull strings, to acquire power, to dominate my enemies. I was built to take, whether it's riches or memories or dreams, and I've taken. I've bankrupted barons and deflowered princesses and devoured feasts. I've browsed through your thoughts and taken the most delectable samples. I've stolen a kiss from you. I ate your heart. And it has never been enough.

When I remember that I'm a person and not just a pit, I try to...connect. I socialize. I stand there with my wineglass, eyes glazed over, and let my mind fade into the static. I'm allowed to forget what I am and what must come. I'll come to in the middle of an orgy. Or covered in my own black blood. Or on a rooftop, looking at the cruel and unfeeling moon.

And some nights, I still dream. And when the Queen's whispers do not invade my sleep, I dream of being something. Anything. I was supposed to be something. So I'll never doubt wanting everything. Somewhere in that everything is what I could have been. What I'm owed.