Chapter 1

This is a story of fantasy, love and destiny. And it is the story of my life. You may believe me or you may think of my words as the fervid imagination of a crazy person as you probably will. But here I go.

When I was born, my parents didn’t rejoice my birth. Quite the opposite actually. They’d only wanted a boy but they also got his twin sister as a free gift. They’d always ignore my needs and put my brother before me. But I didn’t hate him for that. No, I loved him dearly. He was the only one who would look at me with love.

Though I knew my parents loathed me, I didn’t really understand how much until I was four.

I still remember it clearly. The memory stuck in my head. A memory I had replayed over and over again trying to think up excuses for their behaviour.

It was spring. A sunny Sunday. My parents had both taken the day off to take us, more like to take my brother, out to have a picnic. I had worn my best dress. Light-pink with a white ribbon at the side of my waist. But mother and father hadn’t even so much as glanced my way. Just told me to hurry up or they would leave me behind. I had been close to tears. Looking at my brother being carried in father’s arms with mother fussing over him. While all I got were strict stares and yelling. Not a smile, not a kind word, not even a little help in tying my shoes. I had hurried, but they had been too fast for my short legs. While running, I had slipped and fallen down, scraping my hands and knees. But still they hadn’t come to help, just kept telling me to hurry. I didn’t cry, just hurried and got into the car.

We had gone to a park near the lake and had chosen to set ourselves beside a big fountain which was the core of the whole park. I had eaten in silence, every now and then secretly glancing at my parents who were joyfully playing and eating with my brother in front of me.

Mh, thinking about it, how right were the names my parents had given us. Whelan and Persephone. The joy of the house and the bringer of destruction. How fitting. But I’m regressing. Now, where was I? Oh right. I was at the most crucial part, when I realized how much my parents, the very people who had brought me in this world, despised me, hated me.

We had just finished eating and Whel had wanted to play with water, so obviously I went with him. We put our hands in the fountain and sprayed each other, seeing who could spray out more water. We were laughing and playing happily, and carelessly. Water had spilled everywhere from our playing. And as we were running from each other, we both slipped. I fell inside the fountain, while Whel just hit his bottom on the ground. We both screamed. Yelling for help. Finally our parents came. But they both went to Whel. No one came to save me. The fountain had been quite deep for the four-years-old me. My feet couldn’t touch ground, and I didn’t know how to swim. I just kept screaming for help frantically and helplessly flapping my arms and legs around. But still they didn’t even look at me. It was as though to them I wasn’t there. As if they didn’t have this daughter. Finally, too tired to keep fighting and asking for help, I had let it all go. I had felt darkness pulling at me. And at last I had found peace. No more hurting.

That time I had really thought I was a goner, and sincerely, I wouldn’t have cared much. My life had just no meaning. But someone had saved me, so I had to return to my home. If so a place where your life and death didn’t matter could be called. From that day on I detached myself from reality. Not speaking if not necessary, doing nothing to get people’s attention. Basically becoming a shadow. To tell the truth I don’t really remember what I did from then to ten years later. Everything is in a haze. I was so out of it, so…unfeeling, that my brain erased those years. That’s why I’ll just go on with happened when I was fourteen. The accident which made me feel again, which signed the beginning of a new life, kinda stuck between fantasy and reality. I, myself, sometimes, still have my doubt if what I’m living is real or not. But to me, this isn’t important. What’s important is that in this path I decided to follow I found my reason of living and, more importantly, my first and last love. Who, right now, is beside me, helping me put everything in the right chronological order and giving me his whole support when I have to tell you about the worst parts of my life. He just loves me so much (this is said by him, it’s not my arrogance speaking). And I obviously him. He’s my world.  Without him I really couldn’t go on living…jnklhjlgchjk

Sorry readers. I just got a smoking hot kiss that left me breathless and mindless for a moment by my darling, who’s name you’ll know soon enough. *grin*