There is a person who occupies that place of the discarded victim who has condemned herself to an ongoing and perpetual campaign of punishment. This person bears the name of Andrea, a traitorous, seditious and disloyal harlot who was given the world by me and chose to instead let me down. She now walks clothed in betrayal, the mark of her perfidy branded on her forehead and the stench of treachery that follows her wherever she goes. She was once feted and worshipped. She once stood high on that pedestal as I provided her with everything that she wanted. She was the last of those individuals who come bearing false witness to their powers of fuel provision. She promised so much yet she spoke with a forked tongue for,like others before her, she failed to maintain that which was required. She let me down. Not only did she commit that despicable act whereby she lessened her admiration and adoration so that the fuel she once gave so brightly and so deliciously now tasted stale and became a mere drizzle rather than a pouring torrent, but she took her betrayal once step further. She had the audacity, the reckless cheek and sheer disgusting duplicity to not only diminish this supply of fuel but then she brought about its cessation.
Had I not given her everything? Was I not everything that she ever wanted? Of course I was and more besides, yet no matter what I provided it ultimately proved not enough. I knew that she sought to usurp her kind, she wanted to topple me from my exalted throne but she was not strong enough. I had my new queen, in Kim, someone whose fuel far exceeded that of Andrea and she proved able and capable of sustaining me. Of course Andrea’s attempt to distance herself from me once she knew she had been uncovered as the charlatan that she was had to be addressed. She put in place all those steps to prevent my tendrils from seeking her out. She changed-mails, changed mobile number, stayed shuttered within the citadel of her office, high up from the reach of those below and even moved from where she lived. She made no attempt to contact me, to express her shame and sorrow at what she had done and this lack of remorse and her failure to account for her most disgusting treason brought about the need to make her account. It was necessary to have her narrow and weasel-like face held so she could look upon her reflection and see what she really was, a harpy, a slattern and a scarlet woman.
She resisted by seeking refuge in anonymity and disappeared from social media. She was never seen at the haunts we once frequented and vanished from her gym, her hairdresser’s and florists. The last surprised me perhaps most of all as I knew she had such a love for flowers, always delighted when each Friday I brought her a new bouquet and she lovingly placed the lilies, the roses, the carnations and so on in a vase. Her home was always alive with a floral scent and each room bore testament to her love of flowers as did her carefully tended garden, both front and rear. I delighted in the pain it must have caused her in order to leave those gardens behind. It was her own fault however. She was to blame for her behaviour and she had to suffer the consequences.
Yet for all her attempts at becoming invisible and she made a good attempt at doing so, I know that she and the others can never escape me. Accordingly, it was not long before my Good Lieutenants through their searching and probing obtained for me her new address. I dispatched my Lieutenants to cause her havoc in a multitude of ways form the minor to the less so and all without her being able to detect who was carrying out these acts of punishment although I knew that she was entirely aware of who the puppet master was. After each successful report from my Lieutenants I was able to feel the power flow through me at her reaction to the latest inconvenience that my underlings had applied to her. I do not want her back. I gave her that chance, even, after her treachery but she resisted that opportunity by fleeing as she did and thus her chance at returning to my grace and favour was denied to her and always will be. Her impertinence and betrayal offend me gravely and thus whilst I have no interest in allowing her to return to my golden largesse, I shall continue to let her know of her treason. She will be reminded regularly, tormented and tortured as punishment for her foul sedition.
This ongoing campaign came to mind today as I looked upon a host of daffodils as I walked. Given her love of flowers I arranged last October for my Lieutenants to organise a surprise for her. I knew she had gone on holiday in the half-term and with her house unoccupied and shielded from the gaze of neighbours and passers-by as a consequence of fence and hedge, my Lieutenants attended her property. Even they had been seen they would have just been regarded as gardeners. She loved the Spring with the change of scent in the air, the promise of growth and re-birth and the joy of seeing the first croci and tulips lead the way before the blooming of flora gathered pace. Accordingly, my Lieutenants planted many bulbs under her lawn and re-turfed it so that come the Spring a delightful message would be clearly spelt out to her once those bulbs had grown and bloomed. One day she would open the curtains from her bedroom and look outside on a floral tribute to her treachery and this day will soon be upon her. Which flower did I choose to convey this message? Would it be the primrose, the sweet violet or perhaps the Lenten Rose? No, it had to be the daffodil.
I will let you work out why.