Post by Absinthe on Apr 21, 2006 14:45:39 GMT -6
[glow=black,2,300]Introduction[/glow]
My name is Evelyn, but the only person to ever call me that was my mother. To everyone else, I was always simply Eve. The life I led was one of confusion and emptiness, for the most part. From a very young age, I felt that I was different from my siblings and peers. My mother used to say that I was just her special little girl. My father, on the other hand, said that I was far too morbid and that my child’s mind should not be plagued with thoughts as it was. My brothers believed me to be cursed and said that I would never be cured of my awful ways. For much of my life, I actually believed them. It wasn’t until nearly three years before the Darkness consumed the Light that I discovered the truth behind my “curse”. . .
[glow=black,2,300]Part 1[/glow]
I first noticed something strange with the childhood realization that I looked nothing like any other member of my family. My father was a very tall, almost burly man, with dark hair and obsidian eyes. My mother was not a small woman either, nor was she blessed with any great beauty. She had a masculine jaw with a thin, harsh mouth and pale eyes that stood out in a ghastly contrast to her tanned skin and raven locks. Each of my four brothers seemed perfect balances of my parents’ genetics. David, James, Andrew, and Steven were each strapping young men with strong features and dark complexions. Each was undeniably handsome in the most masculine sort of way, which is why doubt of my heritage easily festered.
While each of my brothers bore the family resemblance I so longed for, I could not have been more different. As they were dark, I was light and as they had great strength, my frailty cursed me. I was a sickly child with brittle bones and a troubled mind. In times of illness, my pale skin seemed almost translucent, the spider-like veins and arteries showing with vivid clarity from beneath my skin. As each other member of my family had thick, dark hair, I was left with a head full of limp dirty blonde. I inherited my mother’s pale blue-grey eyes; though unlike the stark contrast of her complexion, they fit mine perfectly framed by dark lashes. I was the white sheep in a family of those so dark, it seemed nearly impossible that I shared the same genes.
Not only did outward appearance set me apart from the rest of my family, but our mindsets clashed miserably as well. They all seemed much happier than I was. My mind was constantly plagued with dark thoughts and morbid emotion. I think that James said it best when I was on the brink of fifteen years old.
“People are scared of you, Eve. You give off a vibe that no one wants to touch.”
That “vibe” was something that I had no control over. It was something I was born with, I suppose. After all, when a child has hideous night terrors every night about how the world is going to end, people tend to believe that something is unbalanced. Those people would have been right. I could not tell you of there ever being a time when I did not dream about the Darkness. What I never realized was that the hideous visions of my subconscious were not imaginary, but terrifyingly real. The day of my fifteenth birthday, a chain of events leading me toward destiny was set into motion. My mother and father had decided to take a second honeymoon the week before my birthday. Their trip had ended and they were flying back to celebrate with our family’s traditional birthday dinner.
News reports later said that a mysterious force overcame the plane as it flew over the Pacific Ocean. A sort of black smog shrouded the engines, causing a cessation of operation. There were no survivors. That evening, a dark man in a military uniform came to our house, informing my brothers and me of the crash. He gave me a strange look before leaving the house as quickly as possible. That evening and those following were tragic ones. My brothers blamed me for our parents’ death. After all, were it not for my birthday, they would not have been on the plane.
The following night, Steven was involved in a drive-by shooting. He and a few friends had been loitering outside of the gas station as they were won’t to do when a dark vehicle passed, raining bullets upon each of them. Two days after that, Andrew drank himself into an early grave down at O’Reilly’s Pub. The night Andrew dies, the same dark military man came to our house. Only this time, he asked me to follow him outside. He said that he needed to speak with me alone. David and James had no objections. When we stepped out onto the porch, I took a moment to look upon the dark man’s features. He had a quizzical brow that crowded dark, sunken eyes. His nose protruded a bit too far to be considered handsome and he had a thin, down-turned line for a mouth. The porch light sent a shadow across his face, making him look menacing and dangerous. For a fleeting moment, I was afraid he might hurt me.
“What a peculiar little nymph you are,” he spoke with a rough, scratchy voice. “Nothing like your brothers, are you? If it weren’t for your mother’s eyes, one would think you were not related at all.”
“You knew my mother?” What a startling thing to hear from a man who was simply assigned to deliver terrible news. However, he waved away my question with a scarred hand.
“Only posthumously.” He seemed to lose himself in thought for a moment as he took a cigarette from his breast pocket, lighting it with an igniter much like the one my father had owned. My eyes strayed to the tag bearing his name. ‘L. White’. Strange, I thought, that his given name should signify light when his person was so dark. Startling me from my thoughts, he spoke again, though this time with a slight panic in his voice. It wasn’t until recently, looking back, that I realized how the hand holding his cigarette to his lips shook imperceptibly.
“What I am about to tell you must never reach the ears of your brothers. Do you understand?” I nodded and he glanced over at the front window before turning back to me and taking hold of my elbow. He led me off of the porch and around the side of the house, to the car he had arrived in. He brought a hand to touch my fine hair softly and nearly sighed. “You are Eve de la Soleil. The bringer of light, the ‘eve of the sun’. You are the saving grace for humanity.”
“I . . . I don’t understand. What are you saying?” I had begun to back away, thinking that perhaps he had lost his sanity at some point on his road of life. He held fast to my arm, not letting me get away.
“You are Eve de la Soleil, the bringer of light!”
“What are you talking about? What does that mean?” My fear had piqued considerably. I had finally recognized why this man seemed so peculiar. I had seen him in my dreams, always with a weapon of immense power with light exploding from its end. He must have seen the fear in my eyes, for he loosened his grip on my arm and his features softened.
“Have you never wondered why you look so different from the rest of your family? It was destined to be. God himself chose you to lead the side of good through the destruction of humanity. The Darkness is closing in. Soon, they will wage a war against faith. It will be the war to end all wars. It will be a war to end all life as we know it. You are the only one who can save us. IT is up to you to conquer the darkness and save humanity.”
[glow=black,2,300]To Be Continued. . . . .[/glow]
So, what do you think so far? It was actually started in response to a short story assignment for creative writing, but has since grown into a rather ambitious project of mine. I will update this story periodically, as I find the time to write and if I am happy with the additions I make. Any suggestions/comments, as always would be welcomed.
Hope you enjoy and I would love to hear what you think.