Writing

I have been overlooked my entire life. I have lived in the shadow of my brother. By the age of two he was reciting poetry and reading ancient philosophy, while I was playing with blocks and learning to speak. My parents favored him and showered him with their love and praise while I was left to fend for myself. By the age of ten he had been granted a seat on NCWP, the National Council for Worldwide Peace, which oversaw the direction of the country and its relations with the other nations. I was trying to find where my next meal came from as our parents seemingly forgot they had another child.

I’ve cut ties with all of them and for the past ten years have been living in the streets honing my skills to one day get back at them. Yet, no matter what idea I had, there always seemed to be a perfect response from my brother, even though he should have had no idea what I was planning. At times it almost felt like he was having me tailed or was inside my head reading my thoughts, it was unnerving to say the least.

I had given up on getting back at my family, as it seemed no matter what, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t go and ask for forgiveness as I’m sure they forgot that I even existed. One day, however, I saw a picture of my brother plastered all over the front page of the newspapers, he was surrounded by a group of people all smiling and laughing. One headline read “YOUNGEST PERSON CHOSEN AS POPE” and another read “NEW POPE CONSIDERED THE CHOSEN ONE”. I couldn’t believe it, my family wasn’t even religious, how on Earth did my brother become the Pope. I grabbed one of the papers and read through the article. In it I saw that apparently the “chosen one” was so well loved and respected that he united all religions and peoples and brought about world peace. World peace? Where was my peace, I was thrown to the side and forgotten by this so-called “chosen one”! I was forced to steal and scrape by to survive while those people lived in the lap of luxury, how could they say they united all people when I was still left out?

A thought pierced my mind. They have left me out and forced me to steal to survive. Why shouldn’t I use those skills to steal back what I am owed for my miserable existence? If peace had truly come to the world, then where was my olive branch? Where was my unity? The only way I could be whole once more is to inflict as much chaos as I could, and the only way I knew how to do that was to take everything from my “brother”. After this I will no longer be overlooked, I will be known by everyone as the only person in history to steal from the sacred Vatican vaults and bring down the “chosen one”.

Morgiedama here, apparently this is the start of my villain arc.