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.