2 Studies

There is only one thing in the entire planet that can make me wish I could hurry up and die already.

My Tutor.

"Improper this. Improper that." Does she have to harp on EVERYTHING I do? It's infuriating!

Actually, I'd bet she'd faint if she ever read this diary. As I mentioned previously, I'm very obedient. I just have a tendency to over exaggerate and energize things on paper.

My tutor's name is Brunhilda. And I swear, nobody could have named her better. She's ugly, she's ruthless, she's bulky, and she smells. Thanks to her constant presence, I haven't been able to prepare for anything that is to come. My every waking moment is occupied by her nagging and her tasks.

I'm 14, which means that Claire will return in one year with the heroine. At this time, they will warn us about the war that is to come, but they're too late. We try to prepare, but the army attacks just a week later. Not to mention that their forces are enhanced with magical creatures and dark forces. Yada yada yada, blah blah blah, the important truth is this: we stood no chance.

Considering our lack of personal, even nobles had to fight or command. As a top class general, my father leads no more than 5000 men and wins many victories. He loses an arm, but doesn't die.

Myself, I help father out and start to be recognized as a genius. From there my reputation will only swell. My cold front will attract many women and men will admire my seriousness. Of course, I will also have haters, but hey, who doesn't. Not to brag or anything, but I become quite an icon in the near future.

Then again, I do eventually die, so I guess the fame will just go to waste. How unfortunate.

Gah, I hear my tutor coming.

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After tying up my diary and shoving it in my bag, I silently reached up and pulled on a book. The shelf of books slid open to uncover a small room in which I then stepped into. Closing the wall softly, I held my breath and listened for the sound of my tutor coming to find me. My heart beat so quickly you'd think I was hiding from an apparition. But no, Brunhilda was much worse than any ghost.

I stayed in the room to read after I realized my tutor wasn't leaving the library. I would most definitely have noticed if she left. My tutor's steps were what you might call... heavy.

It did make sense for her to stay. I constantly hole myself in the large room, and since she worked here she knew about hidden passages and false walls and such (though she didn't know where they all were, heh). It was a perfectly reasonable guess to assume I was hiding somewhere there, especially since I was.

Suddenly, she called out in a distressed tone, "Goodness gracious, Claec! Come here this instant!! Your father is livid at what you did at your sister's funeral, you know he'll just get angrier if you put it off."

I ignored her and rolled my eyes. Sure what she was saying was true, but she was an idiot if she thought that it would lure me out.

Besides, as if I would give up that easily. Declaring my sister as dead? How dare they! She was currently overthrowing a criminal kidnapping association for you information. How could someone jinx her like that?

In any case, I kept hiding.

...For hours.

Brunhilda refused to leave the room. As did I. Try as she might, she would not outlast me in a war of attrition. I was far too comfortable staying in my corner of heaven for the rest of the day.

Her voice sounded again and I leaned closer to listen.

"Master! Finally, you're here!" She exclaimed in relief, "He refuses to come out, can you talk to him?"

I put my ear up against the books to hear better. For a brief moment, I wondered whether Father was actually here, but realized that if she had faked it, she wouldn't have asked Father to speak. It would ruin her plan. Which meant...

I froze.

Uh oh, here comes the big boss. At least he's better than Mother.

"Claec come out here this instant." His voice was calm but assertive. It left no room for argument. Not that anyone would be suicidal enough to argue against him.

Not even me.

I quickly exited the closet-like area, making sure to slip away from the area unnoticed. Even if it was Father, U wasn't about to give away my favorite spot.

Gliding down the stairs poised and proper as if I hadn't just been crouched in a small part of the wall, I made my way to my father. I've never been comfortable with eye contact, so my line of sight naturally found it's way to the tile floor.

Even without looking, it was obvious that Brunhilda was glaring at me murderously, (I swear. If I disappear before 17, she did it), and Father was looking down on me with sympathetic eyes. But laced between the sympathy, I know there was a sense of disappointment.

Father sighed deeply, probably wondering why his wife wasn't dealing with her troublesome children herself, and spoke. "Look, I know how much this must hurt. I get it, I truly do."

Lie

"She's your twin, you guys were inseparable."

Truth

"But don't forget, she's my daughter too. I am impacted by the situation just as much as you are."

Lie

"No matter what happened, we have to move on. I've learned to accept the truth, and you have to as well. Claire is GONE. It's a harsh truth, but it IS the truth."

L i e

I stood there nodding, all the while chalking up every time my father lied to me.

I detest him. For saying Claire is gone. For holding a funeral for her despite barely even attempting to find her. For not caring about her. For doting on me. For being a sexist piece of shit who cares about nothing but himself and his legacy. It's really no wonder that Mother cheated on him. Not that I like her any better.

Ah, just my luck to be stuck in a dysfunctional family of bastards.

Father wasn't done yet. He was always one to mince his words. "What you did at the funeral was simply inappropriate behavior for someone who comes from a well off family. It was Claire's funeral for goodness sakes! Don't you think it's disrespectful to her?"

God how much I hated him. He had some guts, trying to appeal to me through my love for Claire. What a low blow.

Still, I said nothing. I just nodded his head and continue staring blankly at the floor. It annoyed him, I bet. The fact that his son never said anything as he yelled at him. Or maybe it pleased him and his ego, thinking I was scared silent. Either way, I cursed him in my head.

It's all the author's fault. He made me the typical cold-hearted guy who showed no emotion on his face. All so that the main character can melt my frozen heart. Disgustingly cliche. Though, I honestly do look forward to those days. When I start 'thawing', I'll finally able to be one more step towards normal.

How does that even work? Am I going to somehow just start feeling more emotions? I don't think I'm missing any to be honest. Will I start feeling them more intensely? What does that even mean? Maybe I've actually been "normal" inside all along and I'll just start showing it more. Or maybe the story isn't true afterall and I'm just going insane, the dreams simply a symptom of it.

"Are you even listening to me?!" My father had continued.

No, I hadn't been.

"Yes," I had replied curtly.

I'll spare you the details of the ensuing argument, well, scolding more like. Basically, he switches between yelling at me and calmly conversing with me as if he were a sane human being. Father, a sane person? How laughable.