Prisoning Truth
France. (37th Chapter)
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Giselle's POV:
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What am I supposed to feel, right now? How am I supposed to react? My lips part and close ever second, its like I wanted to respond but there weren’t words to define my expression. Nothing, I don’t even have the ability to focus my mind on what I’ve heard.
“I know you’re confused. But let me explain first. Let me tell you why I haven’t been by your side all this time. Please Giselle?” Santers didn’t get any reaction or response from me, since I have turned to a frozen artefact myself. He takes a minute, analysing my silence as an agreement for him to speak.
“Your mother and I fell in love, from the moment we met. I didn’t dare to expose the truth about my position, so I had to lie to her. She believed me, not because she felt it was the truth; but because she loved me so much. I didn’t have the chance to spend a lot of time with her, after you were born. I was basically helping my father, who’s your grandfather, in our business. Since the gap between your mother and I grew, she woke up from her daze and found out the truth about me. Only then, she ran away from the house, and took you with her. I flipped off, I was insanely mad because I, myself, couldn’t locate the two of you anymore. It was only a month later, that I got the divorce papers from her.”
My curiosity causes me to ask, even though I’m numb externally and internally.“I’m positive that Santers isn’t your initial name, so how could you be my father if my family name is Knight? (I shift in my seat, trying maintaining my focus) What about the girls that you asked for and got them delivered?” The old man breathes for a mini second, then nods to himself in silence.
“Your mother tried to hide you from me, because she never wanted you to know who I really am. She gave you her family name, so I wouldn’t be able to find you. I searched for the past nineteen years for you. Some people said that you both were in a car accident and died. Others said they never heard of a Giselle Santers before. That’s when I figured it out. I never knew how you looked like at this age; all I remember is your tiny body at the age of two. The girls that Zayn delivered me, were potential candidates of them being you. But they weren’t, and that forced me to kill them from my anger and fury of not finding my own daughter. But now that you’re here, and I’m finally able to tell you all this, I’d protect you with all my power until I die. (He pauses to breathe, then proceeds) Money, clothes, jewellery, whatever you wish for; all you need is inform me about your desire. (He snickers a smile, which makes me shudder) Everything you wish for will come straight to you, but leaving this mansion is the only thing that I forbid.”
“(I croak) Don’t I get to know your first name, at least?” He chuckles deeply, before giving me an answer: “You could always call me dad. It’s David, David Emmanuelle Santers. Our family is originally French, which also answers why your name’s origin is from France. Now, I want you to sleep, relax, and we’ll do more talking in the morning.”
He stands up from the couch, giving me one last smile before he closes the large door behind him. At the exact moment of the door click, I begin to weep in silence. Both my palms grasp my hair from each side, pulling the straight strands with pressure. This is who I am? The daughter of a murderer? The princess of the devil’s decent?
Why is faith playing this game with me? Why is it showing me that my fear of evil, made me realize that I am its offspring? This isn’t who I am; this isn’t what I wanted from life. I can never roam around; I can never return to job as a librarian, I can never be normal anymore.
If I ever turn insane, which is how I feel my future’s outcome will be, I won’t hesitate to commit suicide. Me? The person that cries for the simplest reasons is now the daughter of danger itself. Why did you have to leave me, mom? Why didn’t you tell me all of this, so I could have left the country? Why…
Giselle's POV:
.........................
What am I supposed to feel, right now? How am I supposed to react? My lips part and close ever second, its like I wanted to respond but there weren’t words to define my expression. Nothing, I don’t even have the ability to focus my mind on what I’ve heard.
“I know you’re confused. But let me explain first. Let me tell you why I haven’t been by your side all this time. Please Giselle?” Santers didn’t get any reaction or response from me, since I have turned to a frozen artefact myself. He takes a minute, analysing my silence as an agreement for him to speak.
“Your mother and I fell in love, from the moment we met. I didn’t dare to expose the truth about my position, so I had to lie to her. She believed me, not because she felt it was the truth; but because she loved me so much. I didn’t have the chance to spend a lot of time with her, after you were born. I was basically helping my father, who’s your grandfather, in our business. Since the gap between your mother and I grew, she woke up from her daze and found out the truth about me. Only then, she ran away from the house, and took you with her. I flipped off, I was insanely mad because I, myself, couldn’t locate the two of you anymore. It was only a month later, that I got the divorce papers from her.”
My curiosity causes me to ask, even though I’m numb externally and internally.“I’m positive that Santers isn’t your initial name, so how could you be my father if my family name is Knight? (I shift in my seat, trying maintaining my focus) What about the girls that you asked for and got them delivered?” The old man breathes for a mini second, then nods to himself in silence.
“Your mother tried to hide you from me, because she never wanted you to know who I really am. She gave you her family name, so I wouldn’t be able to find you. I searched for the past nineteen years for you. Some people said that you both were in a car accident and died. Others said they never heard of a Giselle Santers before. That’s when I figured it out. I never knew how you looked like at this age; all I remember is your tiny body at the age of two. The girls that Zayn delivered me, were potential candidates of them being you. But they weren’t, and that forced me to kill them from my anger and fury of not finding my own daughter. But now that you’re here, and I’m finally able to tell you all this, I’d protect you with all my power until I die. (He pauses to breathe, then proceeds) Money, clothes, jewellery, whatever you wish for; all you need is inform me about your desire. (He snickers a smile, which makes me shudder) Everything you wish for will come straight to you, but leaving this mansion is the only thing that I forbid.”
“(I croak) Don’t I get to know your first name, at least?” He chuckles deeply, before giving me an answer: “You could always call me dad. It’s David, David Emmanuelle Santers. Our family is originally French, which also answers why your name’s origin is from France. Now, I want you to sleep, relax, and we’ll do more talking in the morning.”
He stands up from the couch, giving me one last smile before he closes the large door behind him. At the exact moment of the door click, I begin to weep in silence. Both my palms grasp my hair from each side, pulling the straight strands with pressure. This is who I am? The daughter of a murderer? The princess of the devil’s decent?
Why is faith playing this game with me? Why is it showing me that my fear of evil, made me realize that I am its offspring? This isn’t who I am; this isn’t what I wanted from life. I can never roam around; I can never return to job as a librarian, I can never be normal anymore.
If I ever turn insane, which is how I feel my future’s outcome will be, I won’t hesitate to commit suicide. Me? The person that cries for the simplest reasons is now the daughter of danger itself. Why did you have to leave me, mom? Why didn’t you tell me all of this, so I could have left the country? Why…
Notes
2 more chapters, so:
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6/2/16