Princessbeffy

Can someone please read my story ive only written the beginning, want to know if its actually any good or am i deluding myself :P

thanks guys :D x

In the beginning we lived well with mankind, we lived in harmony when they inhaled we exhaled, it was perfect, it was paradise and I swore my life couldn’t be bettered by anything.

I was wrong.

There was you.

I was forbidden, you were prohibited from me our kind was not to love yours, but only to observe, calculate and deceive. We made a truce with mankind shortly after your coming of age. We were forgotten, are unwanteds were taken, and in return I could have you, only we were banished from the society we watched grow, a society we nurtured until that day it was brutally snatched from us and like a grieving mother my kind wanted revenge. Once again your perfection was blissfully dragging your innocent mind to a place of imperfection, insolence and fear.

Welcome to the unwanteds.

YOURS

I always read books backwards ever since I was a little girl I always liked the thrill of backwards reading, It didn’t make sense and it was completely pointless, but I always felt you could tell a good book by the way a story re-ravelled and came together, not how the problem was solved but by how the problem became. Not to dwell on the characters thoughts but to look deeper than the inky mess of alliterations, personification and metaphors. It was my reading backwards that got me into this predicament.

My Daddies the preacher, he spends his time preaching belief and answers to the heart of our community, the type of community that uses this very faith as the weaving to hold together the stitches of this closely knitted town. As like most biblically raised do I spent most of my earliest memories deciphering the book, but unlike most mainstream readers, I started at the end. By the time I was 15 I was halfway to the beginning, and as my understanding of the written word was developing, my faith was weakening until my dads words sounded hollow and over spoken, until every time I read the book my knowledge of science and my understanding of biology pierced my heart as I knew every step away from that book was a step away from my daddy to whom so many seeked comfort, whom to me was merely a preacher.

As I was the preachers’ only daughter it seemed expected of me to attend each week, it was one of these relentless days, when it happened, I was sitting alone on my usual spot on my usual back row, companionless apart from the misshaped, lumpy stone figure before me, when I felt the presence of someone, I picked up my sluggish head and glanced up from the spot on the old, uneven floor, a spot I had been staring at for so long it was most likely too worn to even look at. An old man was stood before me his creased face irradiated to form a big, toothless smile ‘hello’ I asked unsure of what to do next I started examining the hemline of my dress, he moved towards my row with such attention and age I was sure he was just overemphasing the fact that no one helped.

Once the man was settled, I stole a glance of him, his shoes where faded grey loafers, and properly have enough miles to have walked the circumference of our world, his brown corduroy trousers if a little to short, were aged and had the air of a life far from here.

His hands which now closely grasped a copy of the book were well used, and included all the dents and markings of man of art. Finally his face, his eyes were imprinted with the cloudy sheen that is found with age, the crow’s feet around them should have added decades but instead added clarity. His snowy white hair hung in long wisps from the crown of his head, as I was trying summarising the indications of the man he glanced up, and our glaze looked for a small fraction of time, the tepid pools of gleaming bronze pulled me in, dragging me deeper, I had the burning desire to ask and ask why I here and I almost knew the answer I could see each letter forming before me unfolding and I knew that this knowledge was vital, it was gone.

‘You are the one who hold the power you are the final link in the infinite chain of freedom remember me child, as I have opened you to him of omnipotence’, and with the words of his riddle still lingering he left.