And I'd like to preface this with the information that I doubt I'd ever be able to hate anyone who I've met face to face. Even for the classmates who bullied me, I can say I don't hate them. In fact, if you had me talk to Held in person, you'd probably have me second-guessing this very statement. Actually, as I type this, the only real reason that's making me continue believing in this is thinking back to all the worst moments that I can remember.
He reminds me of the very thing a villain from one of my favorite books claims to be against. Someone wealthy and who believes themselves to be wise wanting to keep the world's "most important person" (was I really that important though? were people invested in whatever move I made for a reason or was it all just that exaggerated to the public?) under their wing to boost their own status. To be able to say they are the mentor of someone oh-so-important.
Meanwhile, whoever is being mentored is under the worst conditions imaginable.
That reminds me of him. Someone who wanted the status of being the "mentor" of the "Millenium Prodigy" (I don't feel like a prodigy. not now, not ever, really, since I left school.), while also paying me next to nothing, letting my mother treat me as she pleased even if he knew it was bad. Letting people online say whatever they wanted about me without even trying to issue a defense, without even trying to protect me from what they said. As long as our public image wasn't being harmed, as long as no one thought of criticizing me, or him, it was fine, right? Because the real, breathing child he was taking "under his wing" wasn't worthy of actual protection. No, no. He always cared only for his own image.
I was paid in crumbs. Constantly screamed at. Constantly gossiped about. And no one gave a shit. I had a shitty, tiny apartment next to a dangerous area of the city and the worst possible shifts at work. I frequently did unpaid overtime and no one ever DID ANYTHING. No one ever even KNEW. Everything was happening and no one ever found out.
And Astra- God, I love Astra. I promise I do. I'm so glad I got to meet them and I'm so glad that we got to be sisters later on. And I hate Held for what he did to them. I hate him for it so much. Maybe more than I hate him for the things he did to me. I couldn't care less about myself, after all, but hurting someone I care for is too far. But I also can't hide that the fact that Astra was let into the Climb One was something that could've ended HORRIBLY for the two of us. It did end horribly for them, and I don't want to elaborate into anything now. Yet again Held chose his image over everything. Of course he did. He chose allowing his niece into the Climb One to save face rather than protecting the very "Millenium Prodigy" he boasted about mentoring.
And like I said, I love Astra, I really do. I'm really glad they got into the spaceship. But that doesn't erase the fact that Held knew exactly where the huge scar across my forearm came from and still allowed them in the same vicinity as me.
(I promise I forgive you for giving me that scar, I really do.)
I only got the "best of the best" when it came to ensuring that incident never got out, huh? I couldn't matter less otherwise. As long as his image was intact, no one else could matter less. As long as his oh-so-precious image was still intact, he couldn't give a shit about the world ending.
How I wish I could tell everyone all the things he did, but those aren't my stories to tell, are they? So I'm going to put this all here, because these are the facts that are mine to tell, so I'm going to scream them into the void through this.
I hate him. I hate him so much.
And even if that changes I'll never be able to forget all the things he did.
Good god this is a mess. I'm ending this here. Bye-bye.
