My StoryI remember how it felt when I first laid eyes on him - like I'd seen him somewhere before. His arms were wrapped around another girl's waist and though I didn't know him I felt envy rise within me. He introducted himself as N*** but I knew him by a different name.
Growing up I was raised extremely religious. My parents even talked about taking me out of public school and putting me in a private, christian school, but they couldn't afford it. When I turned 16 I was thankful for that. I met two amazing people who had the same problem I did. We had memories that didn't belong to us. We didn't understand it, but we bonded together, picking up on conversations like we'd been friend since birth, rather than just meeting. R****** thought that it had something to do with spirits and a secret realm. She tried to map it out for me once. None of us realized we were just picking up on coversation we'd had about 1,000 years ago.
Then I met N***. And when he asked me if a particular name sounded familiar the memories came back and it all made sense. I met him soon after my brother tried to kill. He claimed it was an accident and I believed him, my mother, however felt it was time for us to grow apart. Bringing over children from another family, she insisted I make friends with one of them. He became that friend. Soon he was closer to me than my brother ever was and we talked about anything and everything. Then he proposed. I accepted.
My brother went into a rage. Even now I'm not sure if he raged because this would foil his plans to kill me or if he was just deeply jealous I would accept marriage from someone that wasn't himself. He left, but when he came back he was all smiles. We thought things were fine. We were wrong.
The eve of our engagement party bandits raided our home. My betrothed tried to get me to safety, but the house was burning down around us and fighting was everywhere. A beam fell on him as he tried to protect me. He urged me to find shelter, somewhere to hide. I didn't want to leave him, but finally I did. Finding shelter in a hidden room only my brother and myself knew about I waited there.
It seemed like years I waited, a dirty blanket wrapped around me and the smell of smoke suffocating me. I didn't care. If the one I loved was going to die then there was no reason for me to live. They found me, however and took me away. He wasn't really dead though. Just passed out. When he came to he began an ardent search for me that lasted years. Way longer than it should have.
In the mean time I was locked away. Tortured to give them information I didn't have. At first I prayed for escape or rescue. Over time I became resigned to the fact I was going to die in that tower. Then he found me. I don't know how he did it, but he did. He tried rescuing me, and succeeded - to an extent. Badly wounded we made our way home, only for him to die there. Soon after I died too.
Now here we are again and I wonder what fresh horror will fall upon us this time.
(Note: Names have been starred out to protect the idenity of my friends.)
cdailey 22-25, F 2 Responses 0 May 26, 2012