Friday, April 8, 2011

I've Gone Over To The Dark Side...

Not completely, though - I only have the tip of one foot on that side. What am I talking about? Here's the beginning of Destined, the first book of a paranormal series I've been planning, about 7 months now. I'm not too far into it, but whenever I'm sick of trying to get into Aeryn's twisted head at 2AM, I go work on Destined.Once I'm done with Theoretically Speaking, the plan is to focus on this.

I was once told that death is a beautiful thing, an unexpected moment in life to embrace. It isn’t the end, but the beginning of something greater – of a journey that leads to a greater destiny. It hadn't been something I'd believed to be true; at the time, death had held neither beauty nor appeal to me. It had been an unwanted event that stole precious time from us, bringing grief and tears, pain and bitterness.
            This was well before my gift surfaced. Before it took hold of me, controlling my every thought and desire. Possessing my being. It was then that my mother’s words unraveled before me, and I began to understand their true meaning as the familiar sound of her voice resounded in my mind.
            You’re a beautiful thing, Serena. An unexpected bundle of joy that I’ll never let go.
            I was her beautiful thing, the beginning of something greater for her; I was a journey that had led her to her destiny, to my father.
Those words were true. They formed a kind of truth with hidden parts, a truth that wasn’t whole. It was the kind of truth that was twisted in knots and ties so intricate that it became an impossibility to see through it – to get to its core, to untie it and see it bare. It was the kind of truth that neglected to explain that I held inside of me the power of death; that I was wrapped up in beautiful, shimmering paper, tempting everyone in my path. And when I struck, my beauty disappeared. It disintegrated before everyone’s eyes, and allowed the light to shine and expose the hidden truth. Because the truth that my mother’s tender words had kept away from me was that there is no beauty in death. There is only pain, and there is only hatred.