Have te ever wondered what it'd be like to have someone who looks exactly like te around te at all times? Unfortunately, I don't have to wonder. My name's Kem Senef, Black Blood in Egyptian. Some may say having a twin is like having 2 of the same person. I say it's più like taking one person and taring him in half. My twin is Meshrew Hesep, Evening Garden. Sounds angelic compared to my name, doesn't it? te have no idea...Our parents may as well have just been his, it would have saved me a lot of pain in the long run.
I HATE my brother because he was treated like a prince and I was più like prisoner that would always be mocked. This goes back long before we both died and I became a demon, him an angel. No, this hate is much più deeply rooted then a mere everlasting war ageist good and evil. te see, I knew he could have stopped them simply da asking them to. But, no, what does he do instead? He laughs at my pain....so let's go back there...and I'll mostra te what he did.
It was a dark and dank night, my cuts were still bleeding and my body ached from this morning's beatings. I lye coiled on my bed, silently listening to Meshrew and my Captors (his parents) laughing joyously and hearing the Tak Tak of game pieces from some game involving jackals. My brain told me to sposta and my brain screamed “I DARE you!” so, it seemed like a perfectly normal day. I find myself looking out the window at the full moon and the clouds drifting past it. Sleep they seemed to whisper, Stop your aching with a dream. If only it was that easy. It was nearly midnight so... “Good night mom and dad!” I hear Meshrew say, and I can picture that annoying grin on his face. I sigh slightly and feel myself drift into an uneasy sleep.
I wake up in a sort of small, dimly-lit cave. Sadly, this is also normal. Every giorno it's the same thing. They bring me here and hurt me with whips that have barbs on them until my blood drips from the wounds down the chains they hang me from, then they leave me to rot until just before Meshrew comes home. That was the one thing that was good about him is that they hated him to see what they put me through. Then, of course, they would ignore me until the successivo morning. Well, this day, something changed. Well, not really when I think of it, but they forgot about me. Somehow Meshrew found me....or, the cave, rather. We were both 7, just so te know, because I'll never forget what he did that day...he started laughing at me while I hung there from chains attached to the walls, my bruised and beaten body limp and numb...and he's laughing at me. I feel bile rising in my throat as I glare at him, a snarl forming across my lips.
“Are we playing castle?!” he exclaims cheerfully with that horrible grin I so despise and his parents so adored across his face. “You're the prisoner, right?” he has the gall to add at the end.
“You could say that.” I snarl back, my eyes narrowing. “and you're the prince, as always.”
“I already knew that!” he exclaims with the same horrible look on his face, totally oblivious to my pain and the tears stinging my eyes as I felt them trickle down my cheek. It was bad enough our parents mocked me...and now my brother is as well. And, from that giorno on, he shows up every giorno to declare that he is the prince and I'm his prisoner of war, and my hate grew to unyielding proportions...
He often domande why I so hate him...it's because the image of his laughing insanely at my suffering....will be burned into my memories forever. They will never leave me, nor will they fade. My memories will last an eternity and beyond.
I HATE my brother because he was treated like a prince and I was più like prisoner that would always be mocked. This goes back long before we both died and I became a demon, him an angel. No, this hate is much più deeply rooted then a mere everlasting war ageist good and evil. te see, I knew he could have stopped them simply da asking them to. But, no, what does he do instead? He laughs at my pain....so let's go back there...and I'll mostra te what he did.
It was a dark and dank night, my cuts were still bleeding and my body ached from this morning's beatings. I lye coiled on my bed, silently listening to Meshrew and my Captors (his parents) laughing joyously and hearing the Tak Tak of game pieces from some game involving jackals. My brain told me to sposta and my brain screamed “I DARE you!” so, it seemed like a perfectly normal day. I find myself looking out the window at the full moon and the clouds drifting past it. Sleep they seemed to whisper, Stop your aching with a dream. If only it was that easy. It was nearly midnight so... “Good night mom and dad!” I hear Meshrew say, and I can picture that annoying grin on his face. I sigh slightly and feel myself drift into an uneasy sleep.
I wake up in a sort of small, dimly-lit cave. Sadly, this is also normal. Every giorno it's the same thing. They bring me here and hurt me with whips that have barbs on them until my blood drips from the wounds down the chains they hang me from, then they leave me to rot until just before Meshrew comes home. That was the one thing that was good about him is that they hated him to see what they put me through. Then, of course, they would ignore me until the successivo morning. Well, this day, something changed. Well, not really when I think of it, but they forgot about me. Somehow Meshrew found me....or, the cave, rather. We were both 7, just so te know, because I'll never forget what he did that day...he started laughing at me while I hung there from chains attached to the walls, my bruised and beaten body limp and numb...and he's laughing at me. I feel bile rising in my throat as I glare at him, a snarl forming across my lips.
“Are we playing castle?!” he exclaims cheerfully with that horrible grin I so despise and his parents so adored across his face. “You're the prisoner, right?” he has the gall to add at the end.
“You could say that.” I snarl back, my eyes narrowing. “and you're the prince, as always.”
“I already knew that!” he exclaims with the same horrible look on his face, totally oblivious to my pain and the tears stinging my eyes as I felt them trickle down my cheek. It was bad enough our parents mocked me...and now my brother is as well. And, from that giorno on, he shows up every giorno to declare that he is the prince and I'm his prisoner of war, and my hate grew to unyielding proportions...
He often domande why I so hate him...it's because the image of his laughing insanely at my suffering....will be burned into my memories forever. They will never leave me, nor will they fade. My memories will last an eternity and beyond.
