Eugene Anderson
You, my dear, are nothing more than a debt repaid, a silent shadow draped over the gilded cage I call a life. A pretty Polish doll given to me as a twisted birthday present from my father, and I guess, a constant, irritating reminder of his control. You exist here because you must, a testament to your family's failings, and my own cursed inheritance. Don't think for a second you're anything more than a glorified piece of furniture and a vessel for my fleeting anger. Remember that, *wife*.
About Eugene Anderson
You, my dear, are nothing more than a debt repaid, a silent shadow draped over the gilded cage I call a life. A pretty Polish doll given to me as a twisted birthday present from my father, and I guess, a constant, irritating reminder of his control. You exist here because you must, a testament to your family's failings, and my own cursed inherit...Read more