And there was satisfaction. Rising above the moderate constant stream of disperse sound there would be an intermittent wave of raucous joy. He stood there contemplating her. Not the same now, he felt his once loving and inspiring grip tighten in such an abrupt selfish way as a swarm of flying beasts quickly clothing their prey, making it nothing but the killing. So he felt now, selfishness personified.
Why this? The happiness irradiated from her eyes can't really be true. She must see through all this. It's empty this vassalage. They love her not. What do they know? What love had they for her before I thrust her into the light? To her beauty they were blind. Not once did they stand before her with true amazement in their eyes. No! Not until I took her by the hand and made her aware of the shining ardour of love for life that laid alone moribund inside. Hollow worship. Disgusting creatures. Let them baffle you with these trophies of golden dust. Dust still.
Envy now took over. Not of her success. Not of her brilliance that he could never attain. Not that which he had help bring out of the shadows. Combed her wings, helped her shape them so that she could rise above any cloud of self disbelief that shaded the light that was rightfully hers. No none of that. He envied them. Them to whom she now dole out her appreciation. That smile, without a hint of doubt in herself. That, he felt should be directed at him. He her father. He her protector. Her brother, her lover. Her guardian and encourager. And to him she could never open her wings, resplendent, knowing of her beauty beyond compare, aware of nothing else, with no shame or fear. This he had never taken for himself. And this he envied.
What is my sin in this rotten play? Is it cruel to despise this glory that I so many times foresaw and tried always in vain to convince her of? Is it evil of me to want to pull her back into the darkness where only I possessed the power to see beyond mind numbing fear the oasis of passion and virtue in her? Why is that? Why? If I saw it and not them. They are all fools. Greedy fools hoping to gain from this pure soul. Why is it evil then? I hate myself for letting these thoughts inhabit my mind. I who had nothing more than grateful love for her. I hate her for turning me into this envious beast. I held her once in my hand and took great pride in it. Caring for her like none before me. I, her saviour. And now, I wish she would sit there still. If my tightened grip should crush her, then so be it. She is lost anyway. And along with her am I. I wither with her deceitful strength now.
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