((This is an IC letter to her father, as a way to light up some aspects of my character's frame of mind.))

"The same curse was laid upon us all. It is the fate of all of us, perhaps, to direct our first sexual impulse towards our mother and our first murderous wish against our father. Our dreams convince us that this is so."

Dear Father,
or should I call you Sir?
Most people around you do.

I was five when mother died. Her smile and the warmth of her body were the last things I remember from her. I have an image of you laughing as I was nesting at her lap. After her death I was forbidden to talk about her and was deprived of my chance to grieve for my mother. I know she must have been perfect, I felt that, but again I was also a perfect little girl. You acted like you were the only one that suffered from her loss whereas I lost so much more than you did. You chose to keep me away claiming you could not raise me on your own. Why on earth say to your baby girl that her mother went to heaven and that she should promise to never talk about her? And then sent her to boarding school? I still feel bad about that little girl..

When I was old enough to accompany you to social events, you used to ask me to call you "Sir" so that no one could suspect I was your daughter. It was for my own protection you claimed. Therefore, when we joined galas and cocktail parties together I gave the impression of your mistress, of a young ambitious woman, going after your fortune and the "power" invested in your name. I never told you how I felt about your wealth..the way you earned all that money was not my primary concern. What mostly got into me was that they deprived me of my father, and I resented them. For years I have been hiding my true identity, feeling almost guilty about who I really was. Only people close to our "family" knew how your daughter looked like, many had no idea you had one in the first place. Me being away from home most of the time, first in boarding school, then in college and later in university made that remarkably convenient.

Growing up I got to spend time with you mostly during school holidays. I have that memory when I was around fifteen. The image of your naked body in the bathroom with her, she was giving you a bath. I used to sneak in and watch her cuddle you as you sat inside the bathtub and then use a towel to dry every inch of your body. I stood there gazing at your big sized genitals, dazzled, with my mouth wide open, my lips dry, holding my breath behind the door trying to see as much as I could through the little gap. A unison of feelings ran from head to toes, vibrations of all senses, a joy which spread in vast circles, a joy for me without climax because of that deeper, inner holding back. Yes, I was your number one admirer. I am sure you noticed me standing there, but I guess you thought it was fine for me to watch. Till this day I have a kink with being intimate in bathrooms.

By eighteen I already adored you and hated you at the same time. You were treating me like a princess when I just wanted to be treated as your daughter and do together what a father and daughter normally do. Instead, I listened to endless stories about women, teaching me the last expertness in love, the games. I was lying there learning from you, and you were telling me how much talent I had, how beautifully tuned and responsive I was. I still remember your exact words to me "You walk like a courtesan from Greece. You seem to offer yourself when you walk." In some remote region of my being, I could feel you staring at me, almost worshiping me. I was not expecting you to be the father I dreamed of anymore. I wanted more. I was poisoned.

"Everything you feel, I feel" you often assured me. And I know you feared the reaction in me.You knew I wanted to run away. I wanted to leave you. And I finally did. I know you have send one of your contacts to look after me in Hathian when I decided to move there. A man named Boris found me and tried -among other things-to keep me safe, succeeding at it, at least for a while. His dominance over me reminded me of you. Was I unconsciously looking for someone to resemble you?

And I remember now, how in all my loves there has been a reaction away, that I had always been so afraid. Trying to maintain a sequence of the people I loved, hated, escaped from, it all came down on you.What a tragedy. Electra's complex was not exactly my case and Oedipus was in the dark for years, he had no idea that woman was his mother. I am not in the dark. I know who you are. But I don't feel toward you as if I was your daughter. Why I found it so hard to feel you like a father? I run away from you, if I ran faster will I be able to run away from myself?

Yours,
Mary

Mary saved a copy and decided to email it to her father when she would return to Hathian to be admitted to the hospital. This way if something went wrong during the operation, he would know how she felt.

But by the time she finished typing, she coughed. Something was coming out of her throat, it was strangling her. She broke the thread that held it and yanked it out. She went to bed. She had spat out her heart...

((If an established character is up for role playing her father, hit me up with a reply letter or an instant message in world. It will probably come down to something more than an incest story.))