Heartache
Heartache
I
listened to the bell toll and hung my head in silence as I removed my hat. It was "Death's toll" I called it, three bell
tones signaling the loss of life, and I saw several passengers cringe in fear
as mutterings began to take place. "This
ship is cursed now." "It's a bad omen
for the rest of the voyage." I only
smirked hearing their concerns. "At
least they've only had to hear it once.
I've heard it countless times." Mr. Thompson looked at me with concern in his
eyes. "I know you have, but you can't
stand there and say the Death Toll doesn't bother you, because you know and I know
that it bothers you." I stood there as
my smile faded and memories of my past flooded my head as I began to flick my
tail rather upset and disturbed...
Weeks
had passed since my Aunt Margaret and Uncle Edgar took me in under their roof
and needless to say, they weren't expecting me to be a handful, but what could
one expect when you just took an orphan off the street, even though I had been
raised in a noble home, I preferred the street life to a normal home life. The idea of not having any rules to follow
had rubbed off on me. I had lived in the
streets for nearly two months and even though it was a tough two months, I had
learned how to defend myself, I learned how to fight, and I learned how to be
street smart. My Aunt and Uncle didn't
really care for my street smarts since it seemed to make me a little arrogant
and full of myself. I walked into the
parlor smirking sporting a black eye and blood on my muzzle met immediately
being greeted with two frowns and an icy stare.
"Would you care to explain yourself, young man?" My Uncle said glancing over his paper and
started tapping a foot on the ground. "I
got into a fight with a coyote that said nobles weren't capable of fighting." I was smiling and had a few spots of blood on
my teeth from a small cut on my lip. "You're
getting blood on the parlor floor!" My
Aunt immediately hurried over to me after ringing a small service bell and
called for a maid to bring a cold cloth.
"I'll live." I said as I tried to
pull away from, but was met by a quick slap to the seat of my pants forcing me
to jump a little and cry out. "Ouch!" "How
dare you pull away from like that young man!"
Aunt Margaret grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the parlor and met a
maid in the foyer as she took the cloth from her and proceeded to clean my
face. "That stings!" She didn't like me complaining apparently and
roughly led me upstairs to a bathroom trying to clean up my wounds and wanted
to get a good look at that cut. "You
should be ashamed of yourself for fighting!"
"You should see the other guy." I
said trying to make light of the situation, but my aunt just stood there and
folded her arms glaring at me. "Clean
yourself up, and then head down to the kitchen, since you want to act like a
commoner, you will be treated like a commoner."
She turned and stormed out of the bathroom rather upset that I was not
as noble as she would have liked.
Mr. Thompson
explained that since the poor soul had more than likely just passed, they might
wait till we got to shore to bury the body, but since it was August it was very
probable they would bury him at sea. "Don't
expect me to be at the funeral." I said
as I crossed my arms and looked out over the ocean. "I have been to way too many funerals, and I'm
only eighteen years old." Mr. Thompson
looked at me gripping the rail and flicked his tail. "Imagine how some families feel having to deal
with funerals every so often. It is a
part of life that we must all deal with and come to terms at some point or
another." I stood there and closed my
eyes thinking back to two funerals that caused me to fall on my knees in
heartache, and a third that nearly killed me from heartbreak. "There's something's in this life you want to
forget. Now if you'll excuse me, I wish
to be alone for a bit. Send for me when
you hear of when the funeral is going to be held. I'd like to pay my respects." I stormed off toward my cabin in disgust and
my fur on end. "Let go of your past." Mr. Thompson called out to me as I walked
into my cabin and slammed the door. I
walked to my bed and sat down as I glanced at my chest and knew I needed to
look at something to help try and bring a mystery I had been working on to a
close.
After I
cleaned up my cuts and scrapes, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen and met
the maids and butler. Once I had met the
staff, I was quickly escorted to a dual sink that was covered in pots, pans,
dishes, trays, and silverware and was ordered to wash, rinse, and dry all items
before I could be free for the rest of the day, but apparently the joke was on
them, because in my days of living on the streets, I would often serve in
kitchens and work for table scraps by washing dishes, and cleaning off
tables. I removed my coat and hung it over
a chair and proceeded to fill the sink with water and added some soap to it
before adding any dishes, and I knew to wash the dirtier items first, that way I
could leave the easier items to wash last.
I made quick work of my punishment and made sure every item was cleaned,
rinsed, and dried off within an hour, and to gain added trust among the staff, I
even offered to help put the dishes and rest of the items away. I may have been arrogant at times, but I also
knew how and when to be humble and I wasn't afraid to spend time in the kitchen
cleaning dishes and being treated like a commoner, I saw my punishment as a way
to try and build a friendship with the staff, so I may learn how to cook if I ever
found myself on my own again or out in the streets once more. I was helping one of the cooks gather
ingredients when my aunt walked in and nearly fainted in shock. "Alexzander, what on earth do you think you
are doing?" Her fur was on end and eyes
wide in horror seeing her nephew associate with the help. "I'm learning how to cook." I responded and watched as my aunt slowly
turned around and left the kitchen as if she couldn't believe that her idea of
punishment had backfired.
I proceeded
to open my chest and removed a tray from the middle of it revealing a hidden
compartment that protected a wooden tablet that opened up to reveal a diagram
showing the affiliation and chain of command under the King of France's
watch. I took my pencil from its spot in
the chest and proceeded to make an X over a picture of the Mayor and Judge of
London. I examined the diagram and
looked at my parent's names that had a question mark beside them. I had them at the top of England, but there
was something that concerned me as I looked back over some notes I had at the
bottom of the page trying to piece things together and the words of the king of
England haunted me once more "You are the heir to the thrown of England." I brushed them aside as I felt my anger and
hatred surface looking at the images of the King and Queen of France. There was absolutely no bloody chance in Hell
was I related to those demonic and wretched individuals. I closed the diagram up and placed it back in
its rightful place in the bottom of my chest and flicked my tail thinking about
that gut-wrenching and heartbreaking day.
A few
days after my fight and surprising my aunt with my interest in cooking, my Uncle
had received a letter saying his services were requested at a funeral in
London. I didn't think much about it at
the time, but asked my Uncle where the funeral and burial was being held. He looked at me and flicked his tail as he
glanced at my Aunt and sighed deeply. "It
is in the same cemetery that your parents are buried in." I gulped and closed my eyes tightly in pain
as I remember it as the day my heart broke as I was told I was forbidden from
being at my parents' funeral. The Mayor
and Judge told me that I was under investigation for their murder and because
of that, I was forbidden from going. I
cried my eyes out that day and night. I
didn't want to eat or drink anything for days I was so heartbroken after
hearing the news and had it not been for Ray telling me to trust him and Nanny
with everything, I would have died from a broken heart. I stood there for a minute trying to keep my
composure, but was relieved when my Aunt spoke up. "If you would like, I'll be happy to show you
where your parents are buried and you can pay your respects to them." I nodded to her fighting back the tears, my
father's words still rung in my ears and the jeers and insults I had endured
from other orphans did not help matters either. "Are you alright Alexzander?" My Uncle asked with a concerned look on his face. "Yes sir."
I muttered out as my voice cracked from my imminent sadness and
swallowed deeply. "There is no shame in
crying lad." I did not know how to
respond hearing that. I had been told
that "only vixens cried" and laughed at for crying when my parents had passed
away. Old feelings began to surface, as I
tried my best to fight back my tears and sniffled "Please excuse me." I left the parlor upset and didn't want my
Aunt and Uncle see me cry.
I sat
there on the edge of my bed thinking back and perked my ears hearing a knock on
my door. "The funeral will be tomorrow,
his family would like him buried at sea."
I stood up and walked over to my desk flicking my tail as I sighed and lowered
my head. "Who was the poor bastard?" I said clearly upset from dealing with my own
problems and memories. "He was a coyote
one that tried to kidnap you years ago."
I smirked hearing that and smiled weakly, "He is a fortunate one,
fortunate enough I spared his life years ago when I returned to England." "You might have spared his life, but the
injuries you caused him, plagued him until his last breath." "The horrors, the pain, and the torment that
cy-ote caused me I hope carry with him to the afterlife if there is one. I let him live so that he may feel the pain
and horrors I witnessed when I worked under his cruel hand!" I was irate at this point; here I was being
reprimanded for causing an individual pain when I had witnessed atrocities
under his hand. "Do you want to know
what his last words were, Alexzander Monroe?"
My fur was on end as I flicked my tail.
"I could care less what that evil monster said, but I am willing to hear
the cries of a dead man." My anger was
boiling. "He asked for forgiveness for
the pain he had caused others, he asked that he be remembered as the man he
became after he stopped working at the work house." I stood there fuming and breathing
heavily. "If he wants forgiveness, he
should spoke with a priest. I showed him
mercy years ago; I refuse to forgive him for what he did to me and other
children. You were not there when he had
a vixen no older than seven held down and ravaged by three adults. You were not there when a young child was
killed by a machine and he ordered the corpse be tossed into a nearby furnace! He asked for forgiveness? I spared his life when I could have easily
pulled the trigger and ended it without second thought, but I wanted him to
suffer the rest of his days as punishment for the crimes and atrocities he
committed!" I opened the door with a
fire in my eyes that showed through to my soul, a hatred that knew now limits
and I brushed past Mr. Thompson roughly as I glared at him. "I'm going for a walk, and I wish to be
alone!" He stood there not saying
anything as I slammed my cabin door behind me and started off towards the cargo
hold.
I went
to bed that night fighting back tears and pain.
My Uncle's words fell on deaf ears as I closed my eyes tightly doing my
best to keep from crying even though my eyes were burning and begged me to let
go of my pain, my mind and heart could not after the torment and horrors I had
witnessed in the last several months. I
had gone from a noble child to an orphan to a criminal to a slave in a work
house. I had witnessed atrocities no one
should have to witness especially a child.
I was only eight years old and was forced to defend myself from adults
who tried to ravage me. I witnessed
other boys and girls get attacked in their sleep, and I developed a habit of
sleeping on the wooden floor of work houses and trained my ears to listen for
adults enter our sleeping chambers.
Those habits still manifested themselves in me as I would often snap at
maids or other people who tried to check on me while I slept and I would awake
baring my sharp teeth and growl menacingly with my ears pinned back and eyes
narrowed and fur on end until I had to be calmed down. I had become an animal, the once bright eyed
bushy tailed young kit, had lost his smile and boyish nature. I had become a fox, crafty, witty, and
defensive. I drifted off to sleep only
to awake screaming out from a nightmare.
"NOOOO!"
I made
my way downstairs to the cargo hold and over to my crates. I walked around them sniffing the air around
them picking up on forgotten memories and mysteries. I passed by one that smelled of perfume and
flowers and smiled weakly remembering the lost loves of my life and put a paw
to them as I kissed the outside before moving to another that smelled of
leather and paper. It was my personal
library of important documents and mysteries that had been solved and my own
personal mysteries that didn't seem to have an end as I continued my search for
answers. The third crate smelled of
gunpowder and lead, it was my arsenal of weapons and there was a faint smell of
steel, the swords I had collected over the years and sighed deeply as I smelled
the bronze and silver of my medals and trophies from cases I had solved and
honors I had received located in the forth crate. I stopped and stared at the fifth box, the
coloring of it was darker than the rest, and as I walked by I smelled the formaldehyde
and blood looking at the scratches on the outside of it as my eyes flashed for
second and a forgotten rhyme entered my head bringing with it a nightmare that I
thought I put to rest "Tick Tock, Tick
Tock, counting down till the hour of death..." I shook my viciously trying to shake the rhyme
as I put my paws on the crate and stared at it until I found myself resting my
head against and gripped it tightly closing my eyes and felt as if blood was
painting my paws and opened my eyes seeing that my paws were dry. I released my grip from the box and walked
down the dark hallway to a maintenance area and tucked myself away by some
pipes and brought my knees up to my chest as I rested my head on my arms. I drifted off to sleep thinking only of
nightmares of my life wrapping my tail around me.
I was
dripping wet with sweat as I sat up in my bed and looked around nervously
breathing heavily as I covered up my head seeing a light in the doorway. "Alexzander, are you alright?" It was my Aunt Margaret and Uncle Edgar, they
had come to check on me. "I just had a
nightmare, I will be fine." Uncle Edgar
walked over holding the lamp and saw where the sheets under were torn, I did
not realize I had my claws retracted and was tearing the sheets as I held them
close to me. Aunt Margaret walked and
sat down on the edge bed and leaned down looking me in the eyes and gently
rested her head against mine. I couldn't
help but to look into hers and for the first time in a long time, I felt
compassion and safe. "Tell me what happened
to you lad." She said as she pulled me
close to her and nuzzled me warmly. I
told her everything I had witnessed in the past few months, from my parents
death, to the horrors of the workhouse, and the horrors I had to deal with in
the streets. My Uncle Edgar was shaking
in anger as his fur stood on end while Aunt Margaret was crying softly holding
me close trying to comfort me. I held
onto my resolve and did my best to keep from crying. "Justice will be served nephew, and I will
promise you that the past few months of nightmares you have witnessed will make
you stronger, and under our watch you will become a powerful fox, and those not
loyal to the crown will face your wrath."
I looked up at my uncle and smiled warmly as he leaned down and gave me
a warm hug wrapping his arm around Aunt Margaret also and rubbed her back
trying to comfort her. After several minutes
I was given a glass of water and led to their room where the made a small bed
for me on a sofa and first the time I could remember I was able to sleep the
rest of the night.
I awoke
some time later and glanced around the hallway as I felt myself baring my teeth
and did not realize I had scratched myself as I saw blood on my arm from where I
had extended my claws and dug them into my skin. I was breathing heavily and felt an evil presence
around me as I stood up hearing a familiar voice from my past. "How
long has it been, since we have crossed paths?
I was afraid you had forgotten about me, but it would appear you still
need me around." "I haven't needed
you around for some time now. I swore to
myself I would never call upon you ever again."
"My, my, it would appear the fox
has become tame." I stood there
looking around in the shadows as I saw a silver outline of a mask with blood
red markings on the wall. "You can only run so far, until everything
comes to light. We will cross paths
again." The mask disappeared as I woke
up suddenly and stood up hitting my head on a pipe.
"Alexzander,
it is time to wake up." It was my Uncle
Edgar and he was smiling warmly to me as he adjusted his coat. "We don't have much time; we need to hurry
before we are late for the funeral." I nodded
to him as I yawned and climbed off the sofa and made my way to the bathroom
where I proceeded to clean myself up and found a black suit waiting for me. I proceeded to get dressed flicking my tail
slowly and made my way downstairs yawning and saw my Aunt wearing a black dress
and veil. "You were exhausted last
night." She said as she walked over and
gave me a warm hug and nuzzled me as I let out a small yelp of pleasure finally
feeling loved and wanted for a change.
She handed me a large blueberry muffin as she led me toward the door as
my uncle hurried downstairs grabbing his cane.
It was cold and snowing as we climbed into the waiting carriage and
after a quiet ride we reached the chapel where the funeral was being held. My Uncle was a pallbearer and made his way to
the front pews of the chapel while my aunt and I sat in back. After a brief message and several family
members said words of remembrance, the casket was loaded into the Hurst and we
proceeded to walk to the cemetery following the Hurst and pallbearers. When we reached the cemetery my aunt led me
over to a corner of the cemetery and gave me a warm hug, her words sent chills
down my spine. "I need you to be strong,
because what you are about see is going to be very difficult for anyone and
this is going to be your first time seeing your parents grave." I bit my lip fighting back tears as she led
me over to a tombstone that had been destroyed and I immediately ran over
crying out loudly as tears flowed from my eyes and reached for the broken
pieces of granite trying to put them back together.
I
picked myself up from the floor of the hallway and made my way out of the cargo
area and looked toward the horizon seeing the sunrise and gritted my teeth
remembering that painful moment and felt tears form in my eyes for the first
time in a long time. Later on that day I
stood in the back of the gallery where the funeral was being held and propped
against the doorway flicking my tail the priests words didn't help my mood as I
had been able to fight off the tears from earlier, but he said something that
made me think about my past, and how my mistakes had affected others. "This man was the owner of a workhouse and
was behind countless unspeakable atrocities, but through the grace of God, his
soul was saved by wrath, vengeance, and mercy.
He turned his life around and became a helper to those less
fortunate. He asked for God's
forgiveness and asked that he be remembered for his life not as the owner of a
workhouse, but as a hero to orphans and father to the fatherless." I stormed out of the doorway and to the back
of the ship and let out a loud cry of disgust as I looked up to the
heavens. "You took this man's life after
he turned his life around, but you still let me live!" Tears were flowing from eyes from pain and
discontent. "Why do you take the lives
of the just and let the unjust live? Why
must I shoulder the pain and burden of this life when you have taken everything
from me? The one thing I constantly ask
for, you deny. I wish for death on a
daily basis, but instead of my life you take the lives others that deserve to
live! Why must I live and endure this
pain? Is this your punishment for me?" I had lost it control of everything I gripped
the rail feeling my legs get weak and steadied myself as my pain soon turned to
anger and narrowed my eyes standing tall once more. "You're going to have to do more than that,
to get me to fall to my knees. I refuse
to bow and I will not confess, this is your fault not mine!" I made my back to my cabin flicking my tail, I
had more pride than that and I was not going to allow myself to fall down in
defeat...