PART II VOLUME I: FIRES WITHIN

  "If you're raised with an angry man in your house,

  there will always be an angry man in your house.

  you will find him even when he is not there." -

  Catherine Lacey

  "Charles?"

  I opened my eyes to a world much too bright.

  "Charles? Can you hear me?"

  The room was distant and blurry. Midday sunlight cascaded through the wide windows of my study onto the desk where I had slept. I blinked and raised my head, a piercing pain shot through my head as I did so. I looked up to see Catherine at the entrance of the study's door.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "Did you sleep here?"

  A bottle of gin and an empty glass were on the desk. I searched my mind for my last memory but could only recall being unable to sleep and pacing the grounds. I noticed I was in the same clothes as the day before. It wasn't the first time Catherine found me like that, who likely went to find me after not being present for breakfast, and it wasn't the last. If I had been more aware I might've bee more embarrassed. At the time I didn't care. I didn't want to care. I wanted to numb. In those small moments between waking and consciousness I didn't remember anything - until I did and reality hit me with full force. The mocking vivacity and vividness of the world annoyed me. I couldn't deal with it all - the estate, servants, rents, letters, eating, thinking, being. It made me sick to even think about.

  "Evidently," I said straightening myself.

  "You can not keep doing this," she said, "I know it must be difficult but-"

  "You know? And what is it that you know" I said looking up at her, "you don't know anything."

  She tried to find something to say, but instead nodded and retreated, closing the door behind her, likely thinking it was best to leave me alone. I laid my head back on the cool hard desk and fell back asleep.