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The words came out, absent of the childish undertones that clung to Kesi's speech most of the time. It was only fair for them to come, for she was a child, a girl kept home until she was just old enough to begin work at the circus. Like Nem himself before her, she was uprooted and brought to the circus, the exposure to the world much greater and the possibilities of her unhinging and finding herself growing larger. But, the irony of it happening within Alexandria itself, at the fault of Amenemhat himself...
It was rather funny, if he was being honest.
The laughter threatened to break his visage, to destroy the smooth facade his voice created in order to lull Kesi deeper. The humour of the situation wanted to override the serious nature of this methodology. Amenemhat was concerned and yet... the callous amusement at the emergence of another sort of Kesi altogether brought to the young man his own sort of break. He pretended she was his sister at all times, a girl with a broken memory needing to be guided at all times. He'd held her hand in the circus when she was brought in, he tried to keep her safe and show her the majesty of the circus as it ran. Too young to be directly in charge of much of anything, much of Nem's work entailed honing himself, physically and mentally, participating in acts as an assistant to the true performers. Amenemhat was, in all aspects of his circus life, a medium.
And the fate doesn't escape me with this impostor girl, either.
He lamented it, being second fiddle to his father, to the man's performers, to the machinations of the circus that as of yet did not need him.
Amenemhat allowed himself to be sucked in. The overwhelming clench within his gut that followed with his jaw. The sensation of fire welling in his belly as the muscles contracted together. The unsubtle twitch of his hand as he wanted so desperately to lift it up. The capacity for speech was rendered null, teeth ground together until at last, he took a step backwards. The laughter spilled out in earnest after his jaw relaxed, echoing pain throughout the bone as a watery sheen cast between his eyelids. First, it was a chuckle, muted and reserved until it drew deeper, coursed louder and solicited the invitation of his body.
Then, it ended altogether.
The facade returned as Amenemhat let the tears fall along his face. His expression, having turned quite manic in his fit of laughter, devolved, eyes narrowed as he drew closer to Kesi. His fingers clenched about the girl's jawline as he leaned forward to breathe into her ear,
"Do you prefer peaches, Kesi? We can send for some later on. But, not from that particular vendor, of course. Anyone who unsettles us, anyone who misinterprets who and what we are, sister, does not deserve our patronage."
Amenemhat tilted his head slightly before he turned towards Rekhmire,
"Bury it, Rekhmire. You are more learned in this than I am. You've heard the conditions we need established. Make it so."
Amenemhat shifted away from Kesi, brushing his fingertips against his shendyt before he fetched a chair to observe. He was compromised, and figured lending a more experienced hand was the better course of action.
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"I want a peach."
The words came out, absent of the childish undertones that clung to Kesi's speech most of the time. It was only fair for them to come, for she was a child, a girl kept home until she was just old enough to begin work at the circus. Like Nem himself before her, she was uprooted and brought to the circus, the exposure to the world much greater and the possibilities of her unhinging and finding herself growing larger. But, the irony of it happening within Alexandria itself, at the fault of Amenemhat himself...
It was rather funny, if he was being honest.
The laughter threatened to break his visage, to destroy the smooth facade his voice created in order to lull Kesi deeper. The humour of the situation wanted to override the serious nature of this methodology. Amenemhat was concerned and yet... the callous amusement at the emergence of another sort of Kesi altogether brought to the young man his own sort of break. He pretended she was his sister at all times, a girl with a broken memory needing to be guided at all times. He'd held her hand in the circus when she was brought in, he tried to keep her safe and show her the majesty of the circus as it ran. Too young to be directly in charge of much of anything, much of Nem's work entailed honing himself, physically and mentally, participating in acts as an assistant to the true performers. Amenemhat was, in all aspects of his circus life, a medium.
And the fate doesn't escape me with this impostor girl, either.
He lamented it, being second fiddle to his father, to the man's performers, to the machinations of the circus that as of yet did not need him.
Amenemhat allowed himself to be sucked in. The overwhelming clench within his gut that followed with his jaw. The sensation of fire welling in his belly as the muscles contracted together. The unsubtle twitch of his hand as he wanted so desperately to lift it up. The capacity for speech was rendered null, teeth ground together until at last, he took a step backwards. The laughter spilled out in earnest after his jaw relaxed, echoing pain throughout the bone as a watery sheen cast between his eyelids. First, it was a chuckle, muted and reserved until it drew deeper, coursed louder and solicited the invitation of his body.
Then, it ended altogether.
The facade returned as Amenemhat let the tears fall along his face. His expression, having turned quite manic in his fit of laughter, devolved, eyes narrowed as he drew closer to Kesi. His fingers clenched about the girl's jawline as he leaned forward to breathe into her ear,
"Do you prefer peaches, Kesi? We can send for some later on. But, not from that particular vendor, of course. Anyone who unsettles us, anyone who misinterprets who and what we are, sister, does not deserve our patronage."
Amenemhat tilted his head slightly before he turned towards Rekhmire,
"Bury it, Rekhmire. You are more learned in this than I am. You've heard the conditions we need established. Make it so."
Amenemhat shifted away from Kesi, brushing his fingertips against his shendyt before he fetched a chair to observe. He was compromised, and figured lending a more experienced hand was the better course of action.
"I want a peach."
The words came out, absent of the childish undertones that clung to Kesi's speech most of the time. It was only fair for them to come, for she was a child, a girl kept home until she was just old enough to begin work at the circus. Like Nem himself before her, she was uprooted and brought to the circus, the exposure to the world much greater and the possibilities of her unhinging and finding herself growing larger. But, the irony of it happening within Alexandria itself, at the fault of Amenemhat himself...
It was rather funny, if he was being honest.
The laughter threatened to break his visage, to destroy the smooth facade his voice created in order to lull Kesi deeper. The humour of the situation wanted to override the serious nature of this methodology. Amenemhat was concerned and yet... the callous amusement at the emergence of another sort of Kesi altogether brought to the young man his own sort of break. He pretended she was his sister at all times, a girl with a broken memory needing to be guided at all times. He'd held her hand in the circus when she was brought in, he tried to keep her safe and show her the majesty of the circus as it ran. Too young to be directly in charge of much of anything, much of Nem's work entailed honing himself, physically and mentally, participating in acts as an assistant to the true performers. Amenemhat was, in all aspects of his circus life, a medium.
And the fate doesn't escape me with this impostor girl, either.
He lamented it, being second fiddle to his father, to the man's performers, to the machinations of the circus that as of yet did not need him.
Amenemhat allowed himself to be sucked in. The overwhelming clench within his gut that followed with his jaw. The sensation of fire welling in his belly as the muscles contracted together. The unsubtle twitch of his hand as he wanted so desperately to lift it up. The capacity for speech was rendered null, teeth ground together until at last, he took a step backwards. The laughter spilled out in earnest after his jaw relaxed, echoing pain throughout the bone as a watery sheen cast between his eyelids. First, it was a chuckle, muted and reserved until it drew deeper, coursed louder and solicited the invitation of his body.
Then, it ended altogether.
The facade returned as Amenemhat let the tears fall along his face. His expression, having turned quite manic in his fit of laughter, devolved, eyes narrowed as he drew closer to Kesi. His fingers clenched about the girl's jawline as he leaned forward to breathe into her ear,
"Do you prefer peaches, Kesi? We can send for some later on. But, not from that particular vendor, of course. Anyone who unsettles us, anyone who misinterprets who and what we are, sister, does not deserve our patronage."
Amenemhat tilted his head slightly before he turned towards Rekhmire,
"Bury it, Rekhmire. You are more learned in this than I am. You've heard the conditions we need established. Make it so."
Amenemhat shifted away from Kesi, brushing his fingertips against his shendyt before he fetched a chair to observe. He was compromised, and figured lending a more experienced hand was the better course of action.
Everything around her was still fairly confusing. She could hear laughter in the distance, but that didn’t much matter to the girl. Kesi was lost in her own mind. Never before had the shattered shards given shape to something… new. They showed a different reflection, a different part of Kesi that previously didn’t exist. Or maybe it always existed, just lying dormant until the child called for them.
This… new element was different. She was born from the deep desire the child had. But there was fear in that desire. She did not wish to be out, the child. It was easier to hide. To be in the darkness while another stepped in to take her place. This Kesi did not necessarily want to protect the girl, but to soothe her. To calm her. To lull her into a sense of safety. To get what she wanted, what she desperately needed but not have to suffer through the process into getting it. This was her job, her goal. She would please the child, for she lived a life to serve others. This reflection lived a life to serve herself.
Her eyes truly began to ache. She fought with all her might. Don’t look. Resist, Issa. Over and over again that voice whispered. And finally Kesi ask the magic question.
Who is Issa?
Why did she keep saying that name? Why did that voice whisper in her mind? That name felt important and yet… empty. For she, nor the child, was Issa. Issa was a stranger. Issa was a name that made no sense. And yet just the thought of an Issa caused unbearable pain. Her head felt like it was on fire, ready to split in half. The name felt like torture. Like a memory best left forgotten. And yet all the same it was a name filled with desire beyond anything that could be imagined.
The top spun again and Kesi knew she should watch. She knew she should listen to her brother’s words. He would give her peaches. She wanted peaches. “I… I want peaches.” Kesi repeated again. It was beyond want. The thought of the fruit in her hand consumed her. She loved peaches. All she wanted were peaches. Grapes were nothing, a distraction, a useless means to try to assuage her hungering for peaches. But grapes would not work. Kesi’s mind was set.
But was it? It was still burning. Fighting within itself. She wants peaches, she needs peaches she… she…
Her eyes finally slammed shut and hands raised to her ears. She wanted to see no more. She wanted to hear no more. “G-Go away.”
That was what Kesi truly wanted. She did not want her brother right now, nor the doctor who so often scared her. She wanted solitude, the chance to think without so many voices bothering her. She did not want to hear her brother, nor did she want to listen to the doctor. Least of all she did not want to hear the useless voice calling out a fake name.
Issa…. Issa….
“Shut up!” She screamed. She moved so now her arms were covering her ears. Her hands dug into her scalp. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
She was at a war. The child was lost somewhere in her body, this reflection wanted for… something, but with little clarity to what it was, and somewhere deeper within the depths of her mind a being lurked. One that caused her more fear than any man had done before. One that Kesi wanted to bury, bury so deep that she would never hear it again.
Issa.
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Everything around her was still fairly confusing. She could hear laughter in the distance, but that didn’t much matter to the girl. Kesi was lost in her own mind. Never before had the shattered shards given shape to something… new. They showed a different reflection, a different part of Kesi that previously didn’t exist. Or maybe it always existed, just lying dormant until the child called for them.
This… new element was different. She was born from the deep desire the child had. But there was fear in that desire. She did not wish to be out, the child. It was easier to hide. To be in the darkness while another stepped in to take her place. This Kesi did not necessarily want to protect the girl, but to soothe her. To calm her. To lull her into a sense of safety. To get what she wanted, what she desperately needed but not have to suffer through the process into getting it. This was her job, her goal. She would please the child, for she lived a life to serve others. This reflection lived a life to serve herself.
Her eyes truly began to ache. She fought with all her might. Don’t look. Resist, Issa. Over and over again that voice whispered. And finally Kesi ask the magic question.
Who is Issa?
Why did she keep saying that name? Why did that voice whisper in her mind? That name felt important and yet… empty. For she, nor the child, was Issa. Issa was a stranger. Issa was a name that made no sense. And yet just the thought of an Issa caused unbearable pain. Her head felt like it was on fire, ready to split in half. The name felt like torture. Like a memory best left forgotten. And yet all the same it was a name filled with desire beyond anything that could be imagined.
The top spun again and Kesi knew she should watch. She knew she should listen to her brother’s words. He would give her peaches. She wanted peaches. “I… I want peaches.” Kesi repeated again. It was beyond want. The thought of the fruit in her hand consumed her. She loved peaches. All she wanted were peaches. Grapes were nothing, a distraction, a useless means to try to assuage her hungering for peaches. But grapes would not work. Kesi’s mind was set.
But was it? It was still burning. Fighting within itself. She wants peaches, she needs peaches she… she…
Her eyes finally slammed shut and hands raised to her ears. She wanted to see no more. She wanted to hear no more. “G-Go away.”
That was what Kesi truly wanted. She did not want her brother right now, nor the doctor who so often scared her. She wanted solitude, the chance to think without so many voices bothering her. She did not want to hear her brother, nor did she want to listen to the doctor. Least of all she did not want to hear the useless voice calling out a fake name.
Issa…. Issa….
“Shut up!” She screamed. She moved so now her arms were covering her ears. Her hands dug into her scalp. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
She was at a war. The child was lost somewhere in her body, this reflection wanted for… something, but with little clarity to what it was, and somewhere deeper within the depths of her mind a being lurked. One that caused her more fear than any man had done before. One that Kesi wanted to bury, bury so deep that she would never hear it again.
Issa.
Everything around her was still fairly confusing. She could hear laughter in the distance, but that didn’t much matter to the girl. Kesi was lost in her own mind. Never before had the shattered shards given shape to something… new. They showed a different reflection, a different part of Kesi that previously didn’t exist. Or maybe it always existed, just lying dormant until the child called for them.
This… new element was different. She was born from the deep desire the child had. But there was fear in that desire. She did not wish to be out, the child. It was easier to hide. To be in the darkness while another stepped in to take her place. This Kesi did not necessarily want to protect the girl, but to soothe her. To calm her. To lull her into a sense of safety. To get what she wanted, what she desperately needed but not have to suffer through the process into getting it. This was her job, her goal. She would please the child, for she lived a life to serve others. This reflection lived a life to serve herself.
Her eyes truly began to ache. She fought with all her might. Don’t look. Resist, Issa. Over and over again that voice whispered. And finally Kesi ask the magic question.
Who is Issa?
Why did she keep saying that name? Why did that voice whisper in her mind? That name felt important and yet… empty. For she, nor the child, was Issa. Issa was a stranger. Issa was a name that made no sense. And yet just the thought of an Issa caused unbearable pain. Her head felt like it was on fire, ready to split in half. The name felt like torture. Like a memory best left forgotten. And yet all the same it was a name filled with desire beyond anything that could be imagined.
The top spun again and Kesi knew she should watch. She knew she should listen to her brother’s words. He would give her peaches. She wanted peaches. “I… I want peaches.” Kesi repeated again. It was beyond want. The thought of the fruit in her hand consumed her. She loved peaches. All she wanted were peaches. Grapes were nothing, a distraction, a useless means to try to assuage her hungering for peaches. But grapes would not work. Kesi’s mind was set.
But was it? It was still burning. Fighting within itself. She wants peaches, she needs peaches she… she…
Her eyes finally slammed shut and hands raised to her ears. She wanted to see no more. She wanted to hear no more. “G-Go away.”
That was what Kesi truly wanted. She did not want her brother right now, nor the doctor who so often scared her. She wanted solitude, the chance to think without so many voices bothering her. She did not want to hear her brother, nor did she want to listen to the doctor. Least of all she did not want to hear the useless voice calling out a fake name.
Issa…. Issa….
“Shut up!” She screamed. She moved so now her arms were covering her ears. Her hands dug into her scalp. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
She was at a war. The child was lost somewhere in her body, this reflection wanted for… something, but with little clarity to what it was, and somewhere deeper within the depths of her mind a being lurked. One that caused her more fear than any man had done before. One that Kesi wanted to bury, bury so deep that she would never hear it again.
Issa.
Rekhmire could tell that this would be an interesting case. The girl seemed to have built up some sort of resistance to the drug. He had plans for how to cut through that. He watched as Amenemhat tried to break through to the girl, who seemed almost in hysterics.
He moved closer to the table, picking up the bottle of the opium mixture. He turned his gaze to Nem, seeing that the young man seemed to be irritated by the girl's resistance. "Be patient. She will be herself again in time."
“Do you prefer peaches, Kesi?"
Rekhmire perked up at this. Peaches seemed to be some sort of keyword for the girl. Or something to snap her to one of at least two personalities. He quietly disengaged himself from the two, walking outside the tent calling a slave over to himself. "Get me some peaches immediately." He handed the slave a few coins in case he needed to purchase them.
He strided back in the tent to catch Nem turning to him.
“Bury it, Rekhmire. You are more learned in this than I am. You've heard the conditions we need established. Make it so.”
The older man nooded, before turning over towards the table with the top. He reset the spin, before turning back over towards Kesi. "Focus on the top. If you're good, I have a slave bringing peaches for you."
He dipped his needle into the opium mixture before puncturing the girl's skin again, letting the liquid drip out. "Let your mind go blank focusing on the top. Empty your mind of everything. Let the motions of the top sway you. Focus on who you are. Focus on your desires. The years with your brother playing. The time with the circus. The moments of your life that led you here. Fill your heart with devotion to your brother. To the circus. Remember friends that you may have made here."
He turned towards the girl, gently pulling her hands away from her scalp. "Tell me, what is your name? What is it you want?"
He hoped the answer would match up with what her brother wanted. However, if she didn't it didn't matter too much. He would just have to keep trying. She would break sometime. They always did.
While he was waiting for her to speak there was a noise from the enterance of the tent. He turned to see the slave standing with two peaches in his hands. He moved over and grabbed the peaches, waving the slave out of his tent before turning towards the girl.
"You're almost done, Kesi. Just answer my questions and there's a peach waiting for you." He held up the peaches in his hands. He placed the peaches on a clean table out of reach of the girl.
"You know who you are truly. You grew up with your brother beside you and the Tempest behind you. You know where your home is. You know where you belong. Let everything else float away. Nothing else matters."
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Rekhmire could tell that this would be an interesting case. The girl seemed to have built up some sort of resistance to the drug. He had plans for how to cut through that. He watched as Amenemhat tried to break through to the girl, who seemed almost in hysterics.
He moved closer to the table, picking up the bottle of the opium mixture. He turned his gaze to Nem, seeing that the young man seemed to be irritated by the girl's resistance. "Be patient. She will be herself again in time."
“Do you prefer peaches, Kesi?"
Rekhmire perked up at this. Peaches seemed to be some sort of keyword for the girl. Or something to snap her to one of at least two personalities. He quietly disengaged himself from the two, walking outside the tent calling a slave over to himself. "Get me some peaches immediately." He handed the slave a few coins in case he needed to purchase them.
He strided back in the tent to catch Nem turning to him.
“Bury it, Rekhmire. You are more learned in this than I am. You've heard the conditions we need established. Make it so.”
The older man nooded, before turning over towards the table with the top. He reset the spin, before turning back over towards Kesi. "Focus on the top. If you're good, I have a slave bringing peaches for you."
He dipped his needle into the opium mixture before puncturing the girl's skin again, letting the liquid drip out. "Let your mind go blank focusing on the top. Empty your mind of everything. Let the motions of the top sway you. Focus on who you are. Focus on your desires. The years with your brother playing. The time with the circus. The moments of your life that led you here. Fill your heart with devotion to your brother. To the circus. Remember friends that you may have made here."
He turned towards the girl, gently pulling her hands away from her scalp. "Tell me, what is your name? What is it you want?"
He hoped the answer would match up with what her brother wanted. However, if she didn't it didn't matter too much. He would just have to keep trying. She would break sometime. They always did.
While he was waiting for her to speak there was a noise from the enterance of the tent. He turned to see the slave standing with two peaches in his hands. He moved over and grabbed the peaches, waving the slave out of his tent before turning towards the girl.
"You're almost done, Kesi. Just answer my questions and there's a peach waiting for you." He held up the peaches in his hands. He placed the peaches on a clean table out of reach of the girl.
"You know who you are truly. You grew up with your brother beside you and the Tempest behind you. You know where your home is. You know where you belong. Let everything else float away. Nothing else matters."
Rekhmire could tell that this would be an interesting case. The girl seemed to have built up some sort of resistance to the drug. He had plans for how to cut through that. He watched as Amenemhat tried to break through to the girl, who seemed almost in hysterics.
He moved closer to the table, picking up the bottle of the opium mixture. He turned his gaze to Nem, seeing that the young man seemed to be irritated by the girl's resistance. "Be patient. She will be herself again in time."
“Do you prefer peaches, Kesi?"
Rekhmire perked up at this. Peaches seemed to be some sort of keyword for the girl. Or something to snap her to one of at least two personalities. He quietly disengaged himself from the two, walking outside the tent calling a slave over to himself. "Get me some peaches immediately." He handed the slave a few coins in case he needed to purchase them.
He strided back in the tent to catch Nem turning to him.
“Bury it, Rekhmire. You are more learned in this than I am. You've heard the conditions we need established. Make it so.”
The older man nooded, before turning over towards the table with the top. He reset the spin, before turning back over towards Kesi. "Focus on the top. If you're good, I have a slave bringing peaches for you."
He dipped his needle into the opium mixture before puncturing the girl's skin again, letting the liquid drip out. "Let your mind go blank focusing on the top. Empty your mind of everything. Let the motions of the top sway you. Focus on who you are. Focus on your desires. The years with your brother playing. The time with the circus. The moments of your life that led you here. Fill your heart with devotion to your brother. To the circus. Remember friends that you may have made here."
He turned towards the girl, gently pulling her hands away from her scalp. "Tell me, what is your name? What is it you want?"
He hoped the answer would match up with what her brother wanted. However, if she didn't it didn't matter too much. He would just have to keep trying. She would break sometime. They always did.
While he was waiting for her to speak there was a noise from the enterance of the tent. He turned to see the slave standing with two peaches in his hands. He moved over and grabbed the peaches, waving the slave out of his tent before turning towards the girl.
"You're almost done, Kesi. Just answer my questions and there's a peach waiting for you." He held up the peaches in his hands. He placed the peaches on a clean table out of reach of the girl.
"You know who you are truly. You grew up with your brother beside you and the Tempest behind you. You know where your home is. You know where you belong. Let everything else float away. Nothing else matters."
Desires.
Kesi had those hidden away. Desires. What did she desire? Family. Not just her brother, the person she treasured most in this world. She wanted acceptance from her father. Love from the rest of the circus. She wanted the protection and warmth that came from family. Home. She wanted a home. The circus was just that. Even if it traveled, she felt safe within its bounds. She felt like it was a place that she could always come back to, a place that would welcome her, a place that was her’s.
Clarity.
What did that mean? Why did she desire clarity? What was unclear to the girl? Everything. Kesi lived a life that was constantly changing. She never knew what to think and what to expect. She worked hard so that she could constantly adapt. She needed to adapt. This wasn’t a desire, it was a necessity. If Kesi stayed still she would drown in the sea that was her troubled mind. Her head was always just barely above water. One wrong move and she’d be gone. In this ocean of confusion, Kesi knew only one thing: keep swimming forward.
But to answer what her name was and what she desired was a difficult question. Her name should be simple. It was Kesi. She was Kesi.
No, Issa, resist. Listen to your dear brother, Kesi. He knows best and he always will. Issa. Kesi. ISSA. KESI.
“Kesi,” Her words were slurred. The drugs were doing a number on her. She felt so heavy. Her tongue barely wanted to move and she started to sway back and forth. But her eyes never left the top. Round and round it went, spinning just like Kesi’s mind. Round and round.
But what did Kesi desire? She felt it. The need, the want for something. This was all she felt right now. The personality in play was one deeply rooted in desire. It was born from Kesi’s desires, a way to fight for something that she would typically never fight for. But the personality was barely an hour old. As much as the personality wished to rip free from the confines of the drugs and the hypnotic way the top spun, it was no stronger than the child. A being filled with passion and chaos, she was still trapped within a reality that sought to control it. Kesi was not a mortal with feelings and thoughts. She was clay, shaped at the will of those who created her. She was a slave, just as her papa wished her to be.
But those realizations were beyond the capabilities of Kesi’s mind. Thinking was growing more and more difficult by the second. It was easier just to listen to Rekhmire’s guiding voice, floating along a cloud of drugs and bliss. And in those clouds, she realized her one desire. The one constant in all of this.
“Brother.”
She loved Amenemhat with all of her heart. To see him pleased was the most joyous thing in the world to Kesi. He was the first person she thought of when she awoke, and the last person she thought of when she slept. Amenemhat was her world. She was created by him. Molded to be exactly who he wanted her to be. Amenemhat was her brother, her mentor, her god. He was the one person she desired, and his wants would become Kesi’s needs. Everything he sought Kesi would get just for him. Amenemhat was everything.
With that Kesi’s eyes fluttered completely shut and her entire body lurched backward. No longer could the child withstand the drugs that riddled her system, or the hypnosis that was tearing her mind apart. Blackness took over her and the consciousness that she had been barely holding onto was finally lost.
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Desires.
Kesi had those hidden away. Desires. What did she desire? Family. Not just her brother, the person she treasured most in this world. She wanted acceptance from her father. Love from the rest of the circus. She wanted the protection and warmth that came from family. Home. She wanted a home. The circus was just that. Even if it traveled, she felt safe within its bounds. She felt like it was a place that she could always come back to, a place that would welcome her, a place that was her’s.
Clarity.
What did that mean? Why did she desire clarity? What was unclear to the girl? Everything. Kesi lived a life that was constantly changing. She never knew what to think and what to expect. She worked hard so that she could constantly adapt. She needed to adapt. This wasn’t a desire, it was a necessity. If Kesi stayed still she would drown in the sea that was her troubled mind. Her head was always just barely above water. One wrong move and she’d be gone. In this ocean of confusion, Kesi knew only one thing: keep swimming forward.
But to answer what her name was and what she desired was a difficult question. Her name should be simple. It was Kesi. She was Kesi.
No, Issa, resist. Listen to your dear brother, Kesi. He knows best and he always will. Issa. Kesi. ISSA. KESI.
“Kesi,” Her words were slurred. The drugs were doing a number on her. She felt so heavy. Her tongue barely wanted to move and she started to sway back and forth. But her eyes never left the top. Round and round it went, spinning just like Kesi’s mind. Round and round.
But what did Kesi desire? She felt it. The need, the want for something. This was all she felt right now. The personality in play was one deeply rooted in desire. It was born from Kesi’s desires, a way to fight for something that she would typically never fight for. But the personality was barely an hour old. As much as the personality wished to rip free from the confines of the drugs and the hypnotic way the top spun, it was no stronger than the child. A being filled with passion and chaos, she was still trapped within a reality that sought to control it. Kesi was not a mortal with feelings and thoughts. She was clay, shaped at the will of those who created her. She was a slave, just as her papa wished her to be.
But those realizations were beyond the capabilities of Kesi’s mind. Thinking was growing more and more difficult by the second. It was easier just to listen to Rekhmire’s guiding voice, floating along a cloud of drugs and bliss. And in those clouds, she realized her one desire. The one constant in all of this.
“Brother.”
She loved Amenemhat with all of her heart. To see him pleased was the most joyous thing in the world to Kesi. He was the first person she thought of when she awoke, and the last person she thought of when she slept. Amenemhat was her world. She was created by him. Molded to be exactly who he wanted her to be. Amenemhat was her brother, her mentor, her god. He was the one person she desired, and his wants would become Kesi’s needs. Everything he sought Kesi would get just for him. Amenemhat was everything.
With that Kesi’s eyes fluttered completely shut and her entire body lurched backward. No longer could the child withstand the drugs that riddled her system, or the hypnosis that was tearing her mind apart. Blackness took over her and the consciousness that she had been barely holding onto was finally lost.
Desires.
Kesi had those hidden away. Desires. What did she desire? Family. Not just her brother, the person she treasured most in this world. She wanted acceptance from her father. Love from the rest of the circus. She wanted the protection and warmth that came from family. Home. She wanted a home. The circus was just that. Even if it traveled, she felt safe within its bounds. She felt like it was a place that she could always come back to, a place that would welcome her, a place that was her’s.
Clarity.
What did that mean? Why did she desire clarity? What was unclear to the girl? Everything. Kesi lived a life that was constantly changing. She never knew what to think and what to expect. She worked hard so that she could constantly adapt. She needed to adapt. This wasn’t a desire, it was a necessity. If Kesi stayed still she would drown in the sea that was her troubled mind. Her head was always just barely above water. One wrong move and she’d be gone. In this ocean of confusion, Kesi knew only one thing: keep swimming forward.
But to answer what her name was and what she desired was a difficult question. Her name should be simple. It was Kesi. She was Kesi.
No, Issa, resist. Listen to your dear brother, Kesi. He knows best and he always will. Issa. Kesi. ISSA. KESI.
“Kesi,” Her words were slurred. The drugs were doing a number on her. She felt so heavy. Her tongue barely wanted to move and she started to sway back and forth. But her eyes never left the top. Round and round it went, spinning just like Kesi’s mind. Round and round.
But what did Kesi desire? She felt it. The need, the want for something. This was all she felt right now. The personality in play was one deeply rooted in desire. It was born from Kesi’s desires, a way to fight for something that she would typically never fight for. But the personality was barely an hour old. As much as the personality wished to rip free from the confines of the drugs and the hypnotic way the top spun, it was no stronger than the child. A being filled with passion and chaos, she was still trapped within a reality that sought to control it. Kesi was not a mortal with feelings and thoughts. She was clay, shaped at the will of those who created her. She was a slave, just as her papa wished her to be.
But those realizations were beyond the capabilities of Kesi’s mind. Thinking was growing more and more difficult by the second. It was easier just to listen to Rekhmire’s guiding voice, floating along a cloud of drugs and bliss. And in those clouds, she realized her one desire. The one constant in all of this.
“Brother.”
She loved Amenemhat with all of her heart. To see him pleased was the most joyous thing in the world to Kesi. He was the first person she thought of when she awoke, and the last person she thought of when she slept. Amenemhat was her world. She was created by him. Molded to be exactly who he wanted her to be. Amenemhat was her brother, her mentor, her god. He was the one person she desired, and his wants would become Kesi’s needs. Everything he sought Kesi would get just for him. Amenemhat was everything.
With that Kesi’s eyes fluttered completely shut and her entire body lurched backward. No longer could the child withstand the drugs that riddled her system, or the hypnosis that was tearing her mind apart. Blackness took over her and the consciousness that she had been barely holding onto was finally lost.