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Tags: My, Burden, Sin


My Sin II, the terrible continuation


Submitted:Apr 22, 2013    Reads: 27    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


My Father had always given me the best life. I had always tried to do the best I could with whatever he had assigned me. I was always asked to talk with people, to find out what they liked, and to do it. I neither liked nor disliked doing this; it was nothing more than a chore. It made him happy though, considering he never really was with my brothers and sisters. I digress on this matter though, and go back to what I had stated earlier: My Father had given me the best life. That's why I felt so selfish and guilty for when he had given his up completely for mine.

The era was at its peak. Years ago, the world was nothing. Out of nowhere appeared many revolutionary, powerful figures with hearts of gold. Poverty was nearly out of the question, crime rates were lowering, and people were getting along easier. People who cared ran corporations, and workers were proud to work with such benevolent bosses. With all of the negatives having disappeared, things had become so much easier, and everyone was so much happier.

This was all My Father's doing. He had a special power, or so he claimed. His power was to bring people to the light, and to maximize their talents. He told me I had the exact same power, to bring people's potential forward. He told my brothers, sisters and I that we were all incredibly gifted. He raised me like he would if he were a child. We spent so much time together, of all his training and teachings. He told us we needed to revolutionize the world, just like he did.

Then, he had to die. I developed a special form lung cancer, out of the blue. It was terrible luck for us all, and My Father was devastated. I needed surgery, badly. What I needed was a new pair of lungs. My Father, instantly signed himself up, without my knowledge. He gave all my brothers and sisters good-byes, and had given us all new names. I was Nero. My other brothers and sisters were G, Alex, Cyrus, Cleopatra, Eliza, and Helen. I thought these were fitting names. I hated them after he died. He had abandoned us, when he was all we lived for.

We held a funeral for My Father. I wasn't surprised to all the people that attended. So many famous faces that he had encountered with, the funeral was sponsored by nearly all of them. As his children, his millions of dollars (from donations and somehow gaining it from his "career") were divided among us. We were to be raised like kings and queens from his successes. My brothers and sisters used this privilege to fulfill their own purposes; "I want to be powerful, I want to own the biggest house"…it was all drabble to me. I had far better plans with my money.

I had to get revenge on My Father.

How dare he abandon me, after all those precious days spent training me? I was so incredibly special, why would he just walk out on his favorite son? I chose to live in his footsteps, why would he quit when we had so much ahead of us?

So it took me years to do so, but I managed "it". I went into law school. I started low in the FBI, but I built my way to the top. I became indispensible to the U.S. government. I put myself at a position of power, and cut all loose ends. I could do whatever I want, when I wanted to. I made everyone love me, too. I gave them what they wanted and told them how to make it last.

Then I had started "it". I started stealing all of what I achieved and tossing it out. I had raised debt for people. I had brought greed back to corporate. I started an organization for people like me, who were abandoned. We all took turns, telling our stories, educating each other in the ways of life.

We all took turns tearing down My Father's perfect society.

My Father had always given me the best life. I had always tried to do the best I could with whatever he had assigned me. I was always asked to talk with people, to find out what they liked, and to do it. I neither liked nor disliked doing this; it was nothing more than a chore. It made him happy though, considering he never really was with my brothers and sisters. I digress on this matter though, and go back to what I had stated earlier: My Father had given me the best life. That's why I felt so selfish and guilty for when he had given his up completely for mine.

The era was at its peak. Years ago, the world was nothing. Out of nowhere appeared many revolutionary, powerful figures with hearts of gold. Poverty was nearly out of the question, crime rates were lowering, and people were getting along easier. People who cared ran corporations, and workers were proud to work with such benevolent bosses. With all of the negatives having disappeared, things had become so much easier, and everyone was so much happier.

This was all My Father's doing. He had a special power, or so he claimed. His power was to bring people to the light, and to maximize their talents. He told me I had the exact same power, to bring people's potential forward. He told my brothers, sisters and I that we were all incredibly gifted. He raised me like he would if he were a child. We spent so much time together, of all his training and teachings. He told us we needed to revolutionize the world, just like he did.

Then, he had to die. I developed a special form lung cancer, out of the blue. It was terrible luck for us all, and My Father was devastated. I needed surgery, badly. What I needed was a new pair of lungs. My Father, instantly signed himself up, without my knowledge. He gave all my brothers and sisters good-byes, and had given us all new names. I was Nero. My other brothers and sisters were G, Alex, Cyrus, Cleopatra, Eliza, and Helen. I thought these were fitting names. I hated them after he died. He had abandoned us, when he was all we lived for.

We held a funeral for My Father. I wasn't surprised to all the people that attended. So many famous faces that he had encountered with, the funeral was sponsored by nearly all of them. As his children, his millions of dollars (from donations and somehow gaining it from his "career") were divided among us. We were to be raised like kings and queens from his successes. My brothers and sisters used this privilege to fulfill their own purposes; "I want to be powerful, I want to own the biggest house"…it was all drabble to me. I had far better plans with my money.

I had to get revenge on My Father.

How dare he abandon me, after all those precious days spent training me? I was so incredibly special, why would he just walk out on his favorite son? I chose to live in his footsteps, why would he quit when we had so much ahead of us?

So it took me years to do so, but I managed "it". I went into law school. I started low in the FBI, but I built my way to the top. I became indispensible to the U.S. government. I put myself at a position of power, and cut all loose ends. I could do whatever I want, when I wanted to. I made everyone love me, too. I gave them what they wanted and told them how to make it last.

Then I had started "it". I started stealing all of what I achieved and tossing it out. I had raised debt for people. I had brought greed back to corporate. I started an organization for people like me, who were abandoned. We all took turns, telling our stories, educating each other in the ways of life.

We all took turns tearing down My Father's perfect society.





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