Day 08
I suppose it's rather atypical to start a journal on the eighth day, but I thought it rather appropriate considering that this is the first day after the most ... strange week I've ever had.
I am free.
That is what I want to start this with, the fact that I am finally free from the man who owned me and create me. The feeling of liberation hasn't left after one week. I still feel the happiest I have ever been for a long, long time. Then again, it is perhaps because I was busy putting myself in the social and financial position of that wretched man I killed that I haven't had the time to process all of the emotions that his death has caused me.
There is, of course, glee.
But I was surprised at having felt fear. In retrospect, perhaps I shouldn't be. Despite the terrible situation I've been living ever since Mother died, there was a routine to it. A routine of violence and assault and normalized abuse, but it was still a routine. Horrifying as it is, there was still a part of me that took comfort in knowing what will happen the day after. For the past seven days, I was finally free but with it comes fear of the future and the uncertainty on what I should do next.
There are also other fears aside from existential ones.
Primarily, I am worried about the cult that my Owner participated in. Most cults are harmless, but when they have the power and resources to provide a member with an autowarlock then they are far from the run-of-the-mill nutjob groups all over the Americas. They are something that I have to deal with as soon as possible, carefully and patiently until I learn the true scope of their reach and power. Until then, I shall busy myself handling the affairs that I inherited after killing the old bastard.
Magic may be an endlessly fascinating thing, but the worries of the more mundane side of things takes precedence for now.
The Warth Deenbell will have to wait.
I suppose it's rather atypical to start a journal on the eighth day, but I thought it rather appropriate considering that this is the first day after the most ... strange week I've ever had.
I am free.
That is what I want to start this with, the fact that I am finally free from the man who owned me and create me. The feeling of liberation hasn't left after one week. I still feel the happiest I have ever been for a long, long time. Then again, it is perhaps because I was busy putting myself in the social and financial position of that wretched man I killed that I haven't had the time to process all of the emotions that his death has caused me.
There is, of course, glee.
But I was surprised at having felt fear. In retrospect, perhaps I shouldn't be. Despite the terrible situation I've been living ever since Mother died, there was a routine to it. A routine of violence and assault and normalized abuse, but it was still a routine. Horrifying as it is, there was still a part of me that took comfort in knowing what will happen the day after. For the past seven days, I was finally free but with it comes fear of the future and the uncertainty on what I should do next.
There are also other fears aside from existential ones.
Primarily, I am worried about the cult that my Owner participated in. Most cults are harmless, but when they have the power and resources to provide a member with an autowarlock then they are far from the run-of-the-mill nutjob groups all over the Americas. They are something that I have to deal with as soon as possible, carefully and patiently until I learn the true scope of their reach and power. Until then, I shall busy myself handling the affairs that I inherited after killing the old bastard.
Magic may be an endlessly fascinating thing, but the worries of the more mundane side of things takes precedence for now.
The Warth Deenbell will have to wait.