Protracted Prologue

So. I’m an aspiring writer… at least this is what i tell myself every time I sit down to write a new piece. What’s funny though, even though I have written hundreds of poems, I have yet to finish any narrative that I begin. I have about 3 pieces currently on my computer. I’ve deleted many others. I regret that to be honest, but they are gone and there is no point in dwelling. It seems that I start off well enough, but then life gets in the way and I lose steam and finally it just peters off all together. And if and when I go back to that piece of writing, I feel like I’ve lost the tone I had written in the beginning and nothing sounds right afterwards.

I’m telling you this because I have just very recently sat down and started yet another narrative. Like normal, I feel good about this piece. I’m determined to finish it this time – like I am every other time. What’s different this time though, is I am about to post the prologue that I have just completed (protracted somewhat). I want your thoughts and opinions on the piece.

Also, I want you all to guess what the story is about, the main plot. If anyone can guess, I’ll happily supply them with a free copy, if and when it ever gets published! So, maybe it’s in your best interests to think of it as a bit of fun…

And because I have to do this as I want to publish it one day, here is the disclaimer:  All Rights Reserved – Any unauthorized use or blatant use of content on this page, including, but not limited to, photographs and/or text is prohibited.


When faced with very real threat of death, most normal people are inclined to fight, to draw upon that unearthed strength they have buried inside them to not only conquer the menace haunting them, but to destroy it until it is beyond recognition.

Normal people.

I can hardly describe myself as that. People who know me would not even hesitate in placing me in the abnormal basket, metaphorically speaking.

Is it any wonder then, when I myself am faced with the same threat of death, do I hesitate, pause, flounder in my decision to fight for my life. Maybe this is due to my inability to make decisions in general. Maybe its because I have no idea what kind of future lays ahead of me that I hesitate. Or maybe, most likely, I don’t care if I die.

I have to admit that I’m drawn to the prospect of death. Death. It’s so… final. Blessedly final. Everything ceases when you’ve answered the door to Mr Reaper. The good, the bad, the indifferent. But especially the bad. It’s this fact that is strikingly attractive.

I know. “Cheer up Emo kid”. I’ve heard it all before. I’ve seen the slogan printed on all of your t-shirts. It’s been indoctrinated into my brain by the white coat society around here. Trust me, I know how I sound. But, quite frankly, I don’t care. I wish I did – would give anything to care about your opinions. But the simple fact of the matter is, I don’t. There is no point in dwelling on the matter. If we can get past that insignificant piece of information, then we’ll be good to go. Almost everyone will be happy.

Before you go judging me, thinking that I’m just another kid with a chip on her shoulder, maybe you should read a little more before discarding me without a second thought. Spend a few hours in what it means to be living my life. Maybe you will be enlightened and can empathise with my view on life. Maybe not. But at least be willing to give me that chance to explain my opinions. I’m not asking you to agree with me. In fact, I’m sure my story will have no impact on you, that you will remain steadfast in your views, but at least let me tell it. Then make up your mind…

So. My story starts about 2 years ago…

1 Comment »

  1. Heidi Said:

    Well, you must go on. I love stories that are written in the first person by a young person! I happen to be writing one myself, although I am having a lot of difficulty with fiction. It’s just so much harder for me than writing my blog.
    Don’t throw this away.
    Um, my guess for story line, really don’t know…I’m gonna think about it.

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