Back in 2007, I had such high hopes for a love that would stand the test of time. Whether it was distance or coming of age, love, for me, was something I always wanted to be in. Romance novels were never enough to touch on the subject of an everlasting and complete intimacy with another human being. We all see it in in movies and on TV; they see each other across a room or train tracks, sparky fly, and even though adversity comes to call, they always find their way back.
One movie that touched home for me on this subject was the 1994 cult classic, "The Crow", written by James O' Barr, and starring the legend Brandon Lee as Eric Draven. His fiancée is attacked in their apartment and he walks in, only to be killed. She dies later at the hospital from the extensive amount of injuries. One year to the day of the incident, he rises from the grave, his soul carried on the wings of a crow, to get vengeance for himself and the woman he loved. The memories plague him throughout, seeing each through the eyes of those who acted it out, and ultimately, climbing the ladder to get to the man responsible for it all. When I first saw this movie, I didn't understand, as I later would, the significance of it all. His face paint intrigued me, and the movie was about good winning out over evil. How much I wanted this to be true, and to have someone love me as Eric did Shelly. It would take me until I was an adult to look back, and truly see the bigger picture. Yes, it was a story of revenge for murder, but Eric didn't simply get justice for them and the others he had harmed; he saved an entire city from the wrath of this near mafia boss and his underlings. The endearment he and Shelly had wasn't simply another love, but transcended death itself to find each other; a true meeting of the souls.
I was fortunate enough in my younger adulthood to meet the man who wrote the novel, and get his signature. While speaking to him, his personal story touched my heart; his own love had been hit and killed by a drunk driver, and it was his way of getting back at the world for the pain he had undergone. We all want that, don't we? A way to seek our version of justice, and sate that anger that we have no proper release for? It was also a way of having her live on paper, and her memories scattered through the ages. A piece of him died along with her, and it was forever buried alongside her. He gave me permission to pen my own story, and, in a way, get my own justice for a piece of me dying each day that I have suffered living in a mentally and emotionally abusive household.
For years I sought my own Eric Draven in those that came into my life, claiming to be what I needed and deserved. Each time that it ended, my soul would die just a bit more, until I put away this novel in depression that it would never be fulfilled. How could it; my first ever love dumped me in front of the woman he left me for, and her friend, when we were out ghost hunting one night. The next verbally, emotionally, mentally, then physically abused me for three years. The next tried to make me bend to his will be controlling when I could talk to him, and make everything out to be my fault. Each instance left me a little more drained, until I finally stopped seeking, and started working on myself. I will admit that, yes, I shut down and let myself become a block of ice. No one would cross that threshold and take away my freedom. I would never bow the knee and let another person tell me how awful I was for doing what they asked and focus on myself.
Currently, there is someone who has become close to me, and though I am reluctant to let him in, for fear of what the past might bring, I have to admit that he has brought these emotions to the surface, and made me take that dive back into the past.
This story was once written for someone who I believed I would move to, and spend the rest of my life with. He was every bit the character that is written here, and made me believe I was a goddess to be placed on pedestal. In the end, it was a blessing that I didn't follow through with those plans, for I wouldn't be where I am. I may not be as misguided as I was then, and so full and fancy free that I can't see the other side, but I have the desire for justice. In 2013, I was forced to come back to this household, and every day since has been a torture. The, "murder", I write here, is in relation to my soul, self-esteem, and tearing me away from who I have always wanted to be. Even today, my mother continues to try, but on these pages, I can be in the arms of the one I love, and know that I am safe from the past. I can also avenge those that have actually fallen due to horrible people. For in seeking justice for myself, I search it for those who can no longer do so for themselves.
One day, this world will be without darkness, and we can be as quiet and calm as leaves on a tree. Until such a time, I will remain an eidolon prostáti̱s; a spirit protector that will be a mother to those who find themselves where I always have; fighting for their life in a world that would see them burn.
Welcome to the Chronicles.
-Bri Walker
(Written: 4/13/2021 2:34am Listening to Hilary Duff- Come Clean)
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The Crowsgirl Chronicles
General Fiction"I'm not telling you it is going to be easy- I am telling you it is going to be worth it." - Art Williams His love was the only real thing in her life, and she became drunk on its essence. His touch could light up the day, and that smiles made her w...
