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Chapter 1 : Sinner
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3. Something regarded as being shameful, deplorable, or utterly wrong.
I was not a sinner. Sinners, by their very definition, disobey God. My master was my God, and I never disobeyed his words. My master was my whole life, I’d have rather died that to disobey him, and when I could no longer live up to his standards then die I did. Let those pathetic blood traitors believe that they killed me; they are wrong. I killed myself and if they believe any differently then so be it.
I was not a sinner. Sinners do not help people, something that I spent my whole life doing. I was a servant; I served. I spent my whole life; from the day I first screamed until the moment that I let out my final cackle attempting to make the world a better place. A better place for those worthy enough to life there, for those brave enough to keep purity in our society.
I was not a sinner. Sinners are the lowest of our society, the ones who go to Hell and that nobody misses. I will be missed. I will be missed by the house which I lived in, by the people that I helped, by I very essence of the earth. I will be missed.
I was not a sinner. Sinners do not realise that they are sinning, they feel only that they are doing right. I knew that I was, by some standards, doing wrong. I just didn’t care. I separated myself from the rest of mankind, so much that I didn’t hear their screams as I raised my wand or see the pain in their eyes as I killed them, slowly, and without mercy. I did not like to kill quickly; it always seemed so… so selfish; it would not give the victim the chance to escape, or beg or even to shout goodbyes. The feeling of leadership when I caught them yet again, and the feeling of power as I ignored their begs and goodbyes overwhelmed me, so much that I couldn’t let it go. I was the master then, and they were my slaves.
I was not a sinner. Sinners are shameful and I had no shame. I only had pride, pride in my, in my husband and in my master. My master was proud of me. He could be honest with me, something that he couldn’t be with anyone else. My master respected me in so many ways, people thought that he was selfish, but he wasn’t. He respected me.
I was not a sinner, no matter what people said. I was a little girl, brought up to serve and to be served. That is not sinning. I did what I was told, just like a house elf in that way. I listened and then I obeyed, and if that was unacceptable to people then so be it. But let the world know that I was not a sinner. I was a servant, a mistress, a wife, a sister.
But I was not a sinner.
Disclaimer: the definition is from the Free Online Dictionary.
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