Read The whisper of the forgotten God :: Chapter 1 Aphrodite... Adonis....Myrrha and Pygmalion ....

Chapter 1
Aphrodite... Adonis....Myrrha and Pygmalion ....

"Offended by the mistakes which nature has so often given to the female sense, Pygmalion has spent lonely days without company.
Now, with admired art, full of ease, he carves bright ivory and gives it form as if he had never grown up. Some woman and contemplates his work with heartfelt love. virgin whole appears the image; whole she lives, one believes, and, if not prevent the shyness, she tries movement. o was art enveloped by art! Pygmalion, astounded, draws rapturously on the inflamed breast of the likeness. Often, with a probing hand, he touches the work, whether it is a body, whether, which he never confesses, it is made of ivory.."

I pause, lower the book slightly and look to my grandmother, who has already quietly entered the world of dreams.
My sign to go.

Carefully, I put the book down on the bedside table. I can hear her gentle breathing from where I stand.

A last kiss on her forehead and I am on my way to my place.

"Goodnight Gra", I whisper to her and make my way towards the door, but stop and turn round to face my grandmother, who is still sleeping peacefully.
For a moment it seemed to me as if she had mumbled something.
Hmm. I left the room.
"She's asleep," I tell the night nurse, who is already looking at me questioningly.

The night nurse nods and wishes me a good night.

I do the same.

Unlike today, I'm in a bit more of a hurry to leave the hospital, not because it's already very late...
I stop and turn back to the hospital to look up at her dimly lit room window.

Every night I read her the same story of Pygmalion from Ovid.

Even though she knows it by heart.

She is still surprised and excited.

As I step outside, a cool breeze greets me. I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts.

But one question remains—when will this be the last time I read Ovid to her?

I push the thought away and get on my bike.

I don't find it a torture to read it to her every night, because otherwise I'd probably regret it.

But the thing that bothers me is her insistence that we are the descendants of Pygmalion.
An ancient figure whose existence has never been proven.
Never proven!
But my Grandmother still believe it.
How can she?

I can't understand how an educated and sensible person like my grandmother could believe such an absurd tale about her ancestry. It's just not making sense at all.

And the absurdity increases even more when I remember what I should be according to that family trees.

To believe that we are descended from Adonis.
The lover of Aphrodite, the goddess of love!
Maybe she's in denial and this is her coping mechanism. But for me it's really irritating how she clings on to this myth.
What an absurd fiction....
Damn it!
Squealing tyres, aggressive honking and a minor heart attack on my part.
I almost ended up in hospital again. But this time as a patient in the emergency room, of course.
"Hey," I yell at the driver.
But the driver's headlights blind me so badly that I can barely keep my eyes open.
Suddenly I hear the driver playing with the accelerator.
Won't?!
"What's that?" I growl, but my voice is drowned out by the deafening noise of the engine.
The car is now speeding recklessly past me.

I look at it angrily.

Unfortunately the number plate is dirty and the paint is the same as every other idiot on the road.

Still fuming, I pedal faster, as if I could leave my frustration behind on the pavement.

The city's lights blur past me, and by the time I reach home, my anger has dulled into exhaustion.

I drop my backpack by the door and exhale

Take off my shoes and try to calm down.
All the way home I kept thinking about that inconsiderate driver. But then I remembered that there was still a chance I might see this driver again.
The strange emblem on the car will eventually give the driver away, willy-nilly.

Argh!

I am still frustrated with the driver.

Telling my family wouldn’t help—my mother would panic, and my brother wouldn’t care.

So, I keep it to myself. Instead, I let out a heavy sigh.

A soft purr answers me.
‘Well, Athena?’ I murmur, as she rubs against my leg

I sigh loudly.
"Well, Athena?"
She purrs and snuggles up against me.
"I'll have something for you in a minute, I promise," I wink at her.
"Here you go," I pour the milk into her plate and stroke her a little before disappearing into my bedroom.
It's already past midnight, but I'm definitely not in the mood for sleep.
Maybe some scented candles and relaxing piano music will help.
Aaron always said it helped him get to sleep.
Not that I've ever had trouble falling asleep, but lately it's been really hard.
Circumstances, of course...
At the moment, my thoughts are dancing a tango again.
Especially when I think about my final exams.

What if I fail? What if I disappoint everyone? My friends, my mother...

She would compare me to my brothers again. The thought makes my chest tighten.

I squeeze my pillow, trying to block it all out.

But no matter what, one thought cuts through everything else—one day, I’ll have to say goodbye to my grandmother.

It might be annoying to have to read her this one story every time.
To spend hours arguing with her about how we are not the descendants of Pygmalion!
But...
Pygmalion.
What do I really know about this guy who, out of pure frustration, carved himself a sculpture.
Who then made it his wife?
Or Myrrha, who gave birth to Adonis through incest?
The only question is, who was the mysterious woman Adonis must have loved besides the two goddesses?
Aphrodite... Adonis....Myrrha and Pygmalion ....
All fictional characters, created for entertainment.
An ancestry filled with myths, sins, and legends. A story my grandmother stubbornly believes.
A story that—

Pain.

A sudden, searing pain shoots through my body, sharp as a dozen knives.

My breath catches.

I clutch my chest, gasping.
Then, without warning, a whisper escapes my lips.
‘Kuzunoha.’
I freeze.
And when I look up—I see my grandmother, smiling at me.
My eyes fell on the extinguished scented candles beside my bed.
It has been said for a reason that stress can eat away at your health.
"Ku-zu-no-ha," escapes my lips out of the blue.
Surprised, I look up at my grandmother's smiling face.

Wait, my grandmother?!

Thx for reading <3 Pls give the Story a Chance and try to read 3 more Chapters

I'm looking forward for you comment, subscrib or likes <3