Lemurick pt13

Lemurick could not get the woman's words out of his mind, as hard as he tried. They nagged him, comforted him, and confused him. On one hand they struck him as so astoundingly and delightfully true, but something about them seemed false. Wavering at the back of his mind was a small, quiet voice of reason telling him that she was wrong and even dangerous. Excusing this, he let himself entertain the voice's notions. His father was not an evil man, he had always been kind to Lemurick. In fact, Lemurick could never really remember a time when his father had been cruel to him. But he had made one unforgivable error: he had viewed Lemurick as common and ordinary. Lemurick could not get over the falseness of that description, he was so obviously extraordinary! Or was he? Was he really as special as he imagined himself to be? Didn't people wish they could be him? Didn't he have more power than his lame father would ever have? Lemurick decided that he must rise to even higher greatness so as to leave no doubt in anyone's mind of his worth. The woman had been right, he acknowledged humbly. His anger and -what had she called it? Ah, "bitterness"- his anger and bitterness were driving him to become better. He was becoming a master over his own mind and he would wield the power of his emotions to his own advantage. He push the small voice so far into the recesses of his thoughts that he could no longer hear its lies. He hungrily painted a new but skewed picture of his father- worthless, weak and foolish. His deep happiness was hindered by one thing, however- in remembering his father he was forced to recall his mother.

Lemurick pt12

Lemurick was lying on an unfamiliar couch, feeling cold and uncomfortable. He figured the couch was supposed to make him relax but lying down only made him feel more vulnerable and tense. He looked around the room slowly. It was annoying clean and bright. Lemurick was sure this had been a mistake and his earlier missgivings came flooding back into his mind. Idiot, he told himself, going to a shrink is an absolute waste of time- what if word got out that the great Lemurick needed mental help? A low, soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "Please tell me about yourself, Lemurick" The plain woman next to him was saying. Lemurick nearly fell of the couch in surprise, he hadn't heard her even come it. "Er..." he mumbled, "I-I don't know what to tell you." "Start at the beginning, then" she said softly. A rush of images came back to Lemurick- his humble home, his bedroom, his toys, his childhood friends and then his father. There was that feeling again. The woman must have noticed a change in Lemurick because she suddenly said, "Tell me what you are thinking about right now- what is your mind seeing?" Lemurick reluctantly told her about how his father had said that he was an ordinary boy. "Why does that bother you?" asked the woman. Lemurick did not immediately answer her. He ran the question over and over in his head and decided that she was entirely too nosey. "I think I'm done here." Lemurick said firmly.  She didn't try to stop him, she just calmly spoke to his retreating back, "Don't be afraid of your anger, and let your bitterness compell you to prove him wrong, Lemurick. Bitterness is a powerful tool in the hands of him who knows how to control it- You are greater than they think you are. Prove them all wrong ." Lemurick paused slightly and then continued out of the office, her words playing over and over in his mind. 

Lemurick pt11

Lemurick could not shake FairweatherFriend's words from his mind, as hard as he tried. There was a lingering doubt that told him that Fairweather was, indeed, happier than himself. Lemurick comforted himself with the fact that he was a greater success than FairweatherFriend would ever be. It was true- Lemurick was at the verge of unquestionable greatness. People were beginning to notice him and view him as a threat to their own success and his name was often uttered quietly as he walked proudly down the street. Even those who knew him best said that he was unstoppable, he was to them an immovable rock of strength and brilliance. Lemurick secretly hoped that his father could see him now, he who had considered Lemurick to be common. Thinking of his father stirred a new emotion inside of Lemurick. He paused curiously to ponder what it was. He could not figure it out. It was a little of glee, and little of fierce anger and a lot of dogged determination. I bothered Lemurick to not understand what he was feeling so much that he could not shake the feeling itself. He began to become obsessed- if word got out that he was not an immovable rock than he would no longer be trusted and admired. Lemurick could see his world crashing in on him. He knew what he must do, but it must be done carefully and with great secrecy. 

Lemurick pt10

Lemurick had no time to enjoy his success, he had to fight for every inch he gained. Exhaustion was not an option, because it meant failure and Lemurick would not allow himself to fail. Failure meant that he truly was worthless. In his struggles he saw many great men, giants of the city. When they stood, everyone rose; when they pointed, men rushed in that direction; if they sneezed, whole companies winced. They seemed to hold men's very lives in their hands. They were the gods of the city, the city breathed with their breath and beat with their heart. It rose and fell with their success and destruction. Lemurick copied their moves, he played their words over and over in his head- he would one day be one of them, he was certain.
One day he had a business dealing that crossed his path with that of an old friend's, FairweatherFriend. Lemurick; in his sharp suit, polished shoes, and perfect hair; looked down on his friend and his scruffy, unkempt appearance. His life is so low, thought Lemurick. He must look at me and wish he had my success. FairweatherFriend did not seem ashamed, though. On the contrary, he seemed very proud. "Lemurick, old buddy! What've you been doing to yourself? You look terrible!" He said. Lemurick was baffled. He could only stammer that he had been working a lot. "I'll say!" responded FairweatherFriend, "Who's your boss? Satan?" Lemurick was embarrassed. He had expected his friend to be humbled and wish for his greatness. "Foolish FairweatherFriend!, what did he know, who wasted his life in pursuit of fun?" he thought, "He would never become anything more than a bum." Lemurick was angry and a little curious. "How is it that you are so happy in your life?" He asked his peculiar friend. "What's not to be happy about?" Countered FairweatherFriend, "I don't have much, but I get by. I have friends who are there for me, they may not be superstars, but we're all in this together. They stick by me. I've even got a little lady at home. I've got it made- what more could I want? Yeah, sometimes it's bad, but what ain't?" He looked long and hard at Lemurick and grinned a sad smile, "Hang in there buddy, it'll be ok- just don't forget to have a little fun and make some friends, 'k?" And he left.
Lemurick was dumbstruck. Never would he have guessed his friend would be happier than he. Was he right all along? Is life really about having fun and getting by? "No!"Lemurick shouted to the wind. He refused to believe that he was wrong. He just had to hold out and he would see success in the end. He smiled and laughed when he pictured a poor and destitute FairweatherFriend crawling back to him for help.

Lemurick pt9

Lemurick had not gone too far when he began to see glimpses of a whole other part to the city he had lived in. (Actually, this was originally part of the city-but it was so different and so much better that the citizens of this part refused to claim the other half and made it an entirely separate city). His heart beat faster, this city was clean and bright and busy. People rushed everywhere, clearly headed to important appointments. How different it was from the other city, where people strolled about lazily and ran in packs in search of fun and happiness. Here everyone seemed to be the god of their own personal world, they rarely acknowledged each other's existence. "What power!" Lemurick thought. These people trade with all the world and hold the lives of hundreds, even thousands in their hands. Like a hunting wolf lusts for more blood after he has tasted it, Lemurick hungrily basked in the world of success and dreamed of the power and glory he would gain for himself. Fortunately for Lemurick, he had been taught well by his father that fortunes are not gained over night. He knew he would have to work very, very hard to live at the top. So he started at the bottom, he got a job that matched his degree and snatched at every new opening and chance for promotion. He became adept at manipulation and acting. He could breeze through any interview, provided they didn't look at his qualifications. Rejected time and again for good jobs, Lemurick resorted to forging and doctoring important documents. He learned that for the right price, you could find people who could work all kinds of magic. He was now on the fast track to success: money. Money meant power and power meant greatness. Maybe Lemurick wasn't so ordinary after all.