Prologue
Hi everyone! This is my first story, so please only include constructive criticism. This story is unedited, therefore there will be grammatical errors.
This story is my own work. Please do not copy it. And do not attempt to make it your own.
I hope you enjoy this book! I will be posting chapters weekly.
Death is like a shadow. It follows you around day by day, night by night. There is no escaping it.
I didn’t know the reason at first. Only the stories that came with it. The anger, the sadness, pain and suffering. Something no one can change, no matter how hard they try. One day I woke up, and my world had changed. My parents were never happy after I was born. They put on a bright smile for anyone walking by, asking how their day was going, but if you looked hard enough, you could see the loathing they had for each other. Behind closed doors, everything changed. Boxes under lock and key opened, releasing whatever memories tucked inside. My mom was always better at getting rid of those memories, while my dad let them writhe like a pit of snakes waiting to strike. Eventually, all snakes bite.
It was 3:02am. I remember because it was like my insides were being torn to shreds. A thread being cut that could never be put back together. The world I knew crashing down around me as I looked at the big red numbers of my clock. The screams, then the whimpers, then the begs, then silence.
A thud came from the stairs. Secrets started forming, hiding like dust being swept under a rug. I always hated secrets, even though I kept them. Nothing good ever came of them, they all came out eventually. Whether from a secret diary, or someone exploding like a bomb, doing irreparable damage. They hurt like a knife or bullet wound, panic arising in the few seconds it takes to realize that there is nothing you can do. No going back. You try of course, but what is the point in trying when the end is the same?
I tried to keep the secret. Now I’m in a metal cage that never bends, never breaks. Some call it mercy, others, cruelty. None of their opinions matter of course, because those people are the nagging voices trying to change the way your brain works. A system you got down in the years where nothing mattered but running and playing. Swinging and jumping. Work and relaxation.
This is not a tale of happiness or joy. It is dark, with death and destruction. A family being torn apart. And it all starts on a cloudy fall day.
