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I hate you Father…I hate you Father…I hate you! I repeated over and over again in my head; willing him to hear me wherever he was. It had been three months since that wretched day and still my blood boiled to think of it. Father had never been cruel to me before then, not even mean. He gave me everything my heart desired, I was refused nothing. I’d been his princess, his pride and joy, and his only child. Apparently he had not remembered this when he sent me away. At least Mother had said goodbye to me, tears in her eyes as she let me go. Did Father have a word or a hug or even a glance for me? No! No, he stayed in his chamber and spoke of war and terror. He had not even come to see his ‘beloved’ daughter off to another world he was sending her to. I was not as loved as I thought I was… “Your highness?” Sevel asked, not an ounce of emotion in his voice. “Are you alright?” I sighed and, for the fifth time, reassured him that I am. Why must Humans think I am unwell when I am only thinking? It’s an annoying quality. Sevel goes back to his cigarette, smoking it away absently. The scent is both a comfort and an irritant. It reminded me of home, filled with the sweet smell of pipe smoke; though, at the same time, it reminded me of Father. I leaned my head against the wall, curling my knees against my chest. Pitying myself for my predicament. My name is Nadia and I am the daughter of a man with many names. He has been called Hades and he has been called Devil. His favorite title is Lucifer so that is what he calls himself. He is the king of a place which, again, has many names. Hell, Underworld, Netherworld; to me it is simply home. My mother stuck with Persephone since that was what her name was when Father wed her. They were kind, loving parents to me. Father looked as a man did; no horns or spiked tail as they draw him now. Mother is a beautiful, gentle, and quiet woman. It is funny to see her stand beside Father. Shy against his boisterousness, sweet against his sarcasm. My father was my idol, everything I strode to become. Someday, I will rule in his place. ‘If there is a Home to rule, that is.’ I think to myself, my heart closing up my throat. My Home, and my Father, are at war. War with my Uncle, who has been called everything from Allah to Zeus. It is a strange and troubling battle. Uncle’s cronies, lovingly named Angels by the people of Earth, and my father’s warriors cannot enter each other’s world. Because of this, the war is fought here, blind to Human eyes. I know, you’re wondering why I, Princess of Hell, was sent to a warzone. The war between the world above and the world below is not the only. People began to question Father’s power as a leader when the war began to fall in Uncle’s favor. A civil war erupted and is rampaging my Home like a wildfire. I guess it was decided that it was better for me here. I would rather face a war at home though, than one alone in a strange land. I glance over at Sevel, still smoking, and try to remind my aching heart I am not alone. I did not do the man justice when I called him a Human before. He is only half a Human; his Mother had been a Demon. It is sad when a Demon falls for a Human, the love never lasts. This happened with his parents, almost textbook, his father fell to some disease and his mother was forced to go on. In my opinion, Humans die too quickly to love. I’d never allow myself to fall for one. Although the product of their love was not bad. I’ve known Sevel all my life; we were born the same day, many thousands of years ago. He was my best friend as a child, when we were young and stupid. For some reason allowed out of our mothers’ watchful eyes and causing mischief on Earth. I remember a day, so long ago, when we were barely more than infants. Our mothers let us play in the wonderful country of Italy one day. Sevel had always been klutzy, tripping over anything. He swore he never saw that rock that tripped him. He’d fell into the Tower of…Pizza? Something like that. I believe it’s still leaning over to this day. I smile some at the memory. It was common place to hear he’d destroyed something, his demonic strength nowhere near under control. For some reason, half breeds are born with all the power of a Demon, but none of the control. It made them Dangerous and volatile, their power ruled by emotions. I steal another glance at him, taking in the ice of his eyes and the sunshine of his hair. The sweet smile on his lips as he sleeps. Passed out on the couch for the third night in a row. It’s hard to think of him as a threat. He looks just like a kid; just like the kid from long ago, my friend. I bite my tongue hard enough to draw the metallic taste of blood into my mouth, reminding myself we are no longer children, and more importantly, no longer friends. I get up quiet as a ghost, sure not to stir him, and make my way out of the house. It’s a fair size, middle class. Inconspicuous, hidden away in a small, strange town. I still don’t know if I like it here. The cool autumn air blows my hair away from my face as I step through the door into the yard. It’s the only place here that reminds me of home. Father had built many gardens at the palace for Mother. And the one here, walled off from the street so it gave me some sense of peace, was just like those. I sat and wondered of home. The war was waging on and on, to the point I thought it wouldn’t end.

Description
I hate you Father…I hate you Father…I hate you! I repeated over and over again in my head; willing him to hear me wherever he was. It had been three months since that wretched day and still my blood boiled to think of it. Father had never been cruel to me before then, not even mean. He gave me everything my heart desired, I was refused nothing. I’d been his princess, his pride and joy, and his only child. Apparently he had not remembered this when he sent me away. At least Mother had said goodbye to me, tears in her eyes as she let me go. Did Father have a word or a hug or even a glance for me? No! No, he stayed in his chamber and spoke of war and terror. He had not even come to see his ‘beloved’ daughter off to another world he was sending her to. I was not as loved as I thought I was… “Your highness?” Sevel asked, not an ounce of emotion in his voice. “Are you alright?” I sighed and, for the fifth time, reassured him that I am. Why must Humans think I am unwell when I am only thinking? It’s an annoying quality. Sevel goes back to his cigarette, smoking it away absently. The scent is both a comfort and an irritant. It reminded me of home, filled with the sweet smell of pipe smoke; though, at the same time, it reminded me of Father. I leaned my head against the wall, curling my knees against my chest. Pitying myself for my predicament. My name is Nadia and I am the daughter of a man with many names. He has been called Hades and he has been called Devil. His favorite title is Lucifer so that is what he calls himself. He is the king of a place which, again, has many names. Hell, Underworld, Netherworld; to me it is simply home. My mother stuck with Persephone since that was what her name was when Father wed her. They were kind, loving parents to me. Father looked as a man did; no horns or spiked tail as they draw him now. Mother is a beautiful, gentle, and quiet woman. It is funny to see her stand beside Father. Shy against his boisterousness, sweet against his sarcasm. My father was my idol, everything I strode to become. Someday, I will rule in his place. ‘If there is a Home to rule, that is.’ I think to myself, my heart closing up my throat. My Home, and my Father, are at war. War with my Uncle, who has been called everything from Allah to Zeus. It is a strange and troubling battle. Uncle’s cronies, lovingly named Angels by the people of Earth, and my father’s warriors cannot enter each other’s world. Because of this, the war is fought here, blind to Human eyes. I know, you’re wondering why I, Princess of Hell, was sent to a warzone. The war between the world above and the world below is not the only. People began to question Father’s power as a leader when the war began to fall in Uncle’s favor. A civil war erupted and is rampaging my Home like a wildfire. I guess it was decided that it was better for me here. I would rather face a war at home though, than one alone in a strange land. I glance over at Sevel, still smoking, and try to remind my aching heart I am not alone. I did not do the man justice when I called him a Human before. He is only half a Human; his Mother had been a Demon. It is sad when a Demon falls for a Human, the love never lasts. This happened with his parents, almost textbook, his father fell to some disease and his mother was forced to go on. In my opinion, Humans die too quickly to love. I’d never allow myself to fall for one. Although the product of their love was not bad. I’ve known Sevel all my life; we were born the same day, many thousands of years ago. He was my best friend as a child, when we were young and stupid. For some reason allowed out of our mothers’ watchful eyes and causing mischief on Earth. I remember a day, so long ago, when we were barely more than infants. Our mothers let us play in the wonderful country of Italy one day. Sevel had always been klutzy, tripping over anything. He swore he never saw that rock that tripped him. He’d fell into the Tower of…Pizza? Something like that. I believe it’s still leaning over to this day. I smile some at the memory. It was common place to hear he’d destroyed something, his demonic strength nowhere near under control. For some reason, half breeds are born with all the power of a Demon, but none of the control. It made them Dangerous and volatile, their power ruled by emotions. I steal another glance at him, taking in the ice of his eyes and the sunshine of his hair. The sweet smile on his lips as he sleeps. Passed out on the couch for the third night in a row. It’s hard to think of him as a threat. He looks just like a kid; just like the kid from long ago, my friend. I bite my tongue hard enough to draw the metallic taste of blood into my mouth, reminding myself we are no longer children, and more importantly, no longer friends. I get up quiet as a ghost, sure not to stir him, and make my way out of the house. It’s a fair size, middle class. Inconspicuous, hidden away in a small, strange town. I still don’t know if I like it here. The cool autumn air blows my hair away from my face as I step through the door into the yard. It’s the only place here that reminds me of home. Father had built many gardens at the palace for Mother. And the one here, walled off from the street so it gave me some sense of peace, was just like those. I sat and wondered of home. The war was waging on and on, to the point I thought it wouldn’t end.