Nameless:

 

Once I walked these cobbled stones of Paris with the lithe and joyful steps of a young man at peace with himself. Those were troubled times I know and yet as naïve as I was, I knew and expected nothing of the dangers that were to befall me. My footsteps now seem heavy-laden with the accumulation of hatred and bitterness over the years. Each step leads me closer to the place of happiness and yet misery.

 

Ah, you walk past me giving me shifty-eyed looks of worry and fear. I am strange to you now - no longer one of your kind for you see my pale skin and eyes with pierce through your souls, knowing the evils that reside in your hearts as you live from one day to the next. Yes, all humans are capable of evil. We only need manifest it to use for our own selfish means. The devil always awaits our imminent decision one way or another. Perhaps it is best we stop being such hypocrites and give ourselves to him completely.

 

Once I walked down these cobbled streets, my hand within the gentle ones of the woman I loved. If I close my eyes and try to remember, perhaps I can even feel the warm pressure she exerts upon my colder ones. Her eyes were like midnight, her hair the same. They always shone with warmth and love for me – only for me and for no other. At least I believed that to be the truth at the time. I would have done anything for her – given up my very soul to be with her. She was like an elusive flower, teasing me for days on end with flirtatious looks and laughter which sounded like heaven’s bells in my ears. I do believe I had spent an entire day following her around like a lost puppy until she had finally left me with a flower and a kiss, promising to see me again.

 

It was a fairy tale - one that I wished could have lasted forever. I had made plans to work twice as hard as before- after all a first mate of a somewhat successful space ship could only make so much. I had a diary that I had kept diligently, making plans of my future with her. We would buy a small house by the sea, with enough room for my dear father to live with us. Since my father loved horticulture with a passion, I had made plans to provide him with a suitable garden where he could watch his flowers grow with pride. She had loved the idea and had encouraged it, doing her part by getting a job at the local dressmaking shop. Although traveling and being away from her for months at a time was painful, we both knew that it would all be worth it when we finally save enough.

 

And yet, as I look back now, I cannot help but smile bitterly at how foolish I had been. Jealousy is a deadly attribute which can drive us to the brink of madness and insanity. It can cloud our better judgment and make us see things in a way that was never thought possible. Ah, oh we of so little faith – we who put so much pride in ourselves as humans that we fail to notice how really weak we are in the sight of Providence. We fall faster than a stone let down from the highest peak while we cave in to our darkest desires for revenge. Yes, I was a victim of that emotion called jealousy and look at what it has done to me now.

 

I no longer know if I am human or a mere walking puppet for the devil within me. I cannot complain for I willingly gave up my soul to him. I suffer with this pain but none more so than this one which has threatened to rip what’s left of a heart into a million shreds that would never be healed.

 

I have told myself that I would be prepared to see this – that no matter how much pain it would cause, I could withstand it for my revenge was stronger than any other trivial emotion like pity or love. Alas, how was I to know that I was ill-fated to be so weak? How was I to know that my heart would beat so hard and fast at this punishing scene? There he goes with his best friend in hand, laughing with no care in the world as they make their way to school. I know his name. I had asked for it after all.

 

Albert. Albert de Morcerf.

 

I play with the name on my tongue for a moment as if considering its weight and then unable to stop myself I whisper. “Albert…Albert Dantes.”

 

A bitter smile comes to my lips as I shake my head quickly. What a joke. I would never name any offspring of mine Albert. Just the name alone is enough to make me want to smite something with my bare hands! To crush! To destroy! Ah! Beautiful anger take control of me and make me immune to the agony of losing one who should rightfully be mine!

 

Yes, mine. He would have been my son, if only jealousy had reared its ugly head backwards and remained in the shadows of those men’s hearts. He would have my hair and his mother’s eyes. He would have my nose and his mother’s lips. He would be stronger than me, wiser than I ever was! And yet, he would retain his mother’s kindness, her giving heart, her gentle smile and her courageous voice. I would have taken him to the furthest regions of space, showing him off to the mates on the Pharon. I would have taken him to Monsieur Morrel’s home for dinners and parties and young Maximillian would have had a little brother to play with. I would have left him in the gardens with my father, so that they could have fun playing and learning to grow as many new plants and flowers as possible. He would have learned his mother’s language and danced on the streets with gaiety and joy. He would have run into my arms after a long journey and I would have proudly shown him off to the welcoming crowds of spectators.

 

My son! My son! As you are proud of your papa, so shall I be always proud of you until my dying day.

 

Soft laughter breaks me out of my daydream and like the curtains being drawn after the end of a wondrous play; I am painfully thrust back into a reality that leaves me even colder than before. The boys have long gone; the school grounds now as quiet as a cemetery. How fitting for a man like me already condemned to the depths of hell. However, I have no more time to ponder about the past as time is of the essence. The wheels of vengeance have already begun.

 

Grow up and be strong, dear Albert! Be filled with the joys of your youth and oh do enjoy them while you can. For through you I can make your parents suffer by claiming a love that was once meant for me.

 

Once I walked down these cobbled streets with a song and a word of joy on my lips. It was the name I had once chosen for my future son. Ah, how I would love to call you by that name, my dearest Albert, but alas, it is now nothing more than a faded memory in the darkest recess of my heart.

 

 

~The End~   

 

 

 since buy a small house by the sea, with enough room for my poor father to live with us. he plans to work twice as hard. it r and a kiss, promising to see me again. it nd for no other. at  love for me - only i entwined within the gentle ones of the woman I loved. arts as you live day to