Desdemona. A name that means ill-starred, doomed. A fitting name for me. For I was doomed from the beginning. I used to be my father's favorite, his pride and joy. Then things changed. For the worse.
I used to be just a normal girl, leaving a peaceful, albeit uneventful life. I never asked to be a daughter of Poseidon. I never asked for my mother to be slaughtered in front of my very eyes. But it was doomed to be so, for the Fates are cruel.
I wake up to the sound of thunder and pouring rain. My clock reads 4 A.M. Quietly, I get out of bed and slip into my well-worn slippers. I peer through the blinds, watching the rain. It's always had a soothing effect on me. I could stand there for hours, listening to the steady patter of the falling rain. Instead, I force myself to move away from the window and tug on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
My footsteps are barely audible as I tiptoe through our tiny apartment. I can hear my mother's snores coming through the crack in her door. I silently open the door and slip inside her bedroom. Her long, tangled black hair is spread out across her pillow, reminding me vaguely of a fan. I've rarely seen her look so peaceful. To tell the truth, I rarely see her at all. She spends long hours at the hospital, working to support us. Most of the time, she leaves before at the crack of dawn and comes home long after I've fallen asleep.
I exit the room noiselessly, closing the door behind me. I then walk to the dining room to make myself a cup of coffee.