I began to write because I thought that it would heal me. And in many ways it has. But writing about truth as I have known it is a painful process. The telling of my story comes at a bitter price. I almost lost myself inside these lines. I felt the panic of the broken girl I wrote about every time I closed my eyes because she was, and still is, me. And I realized as her story evolved and changed, I couldn’t help but change with it. I thought that I could draw from my experiences to create her, but she found me out. She knew that I was searching for redemption.
True redemption can only be found through love as it should be. It means to lift something from the wreckage and to draw it nearer to grace. We all want to belifted from our pain, our problems, and our fears. But we don’t seek redemption because once you have been redeemed you can never go back. We hate the fetters on our feet, but the fear that binds us is what keeps us bound. So we love what we should hate, and hate what we should love, because it smells too strongly of the freedom we fear.
Freedom is a dangerous thing. It consumes you and leaves you blank with a dim recollection of what it felt like when you were locked in the familiar. We are bathed in darkness. And so the light, no matter how beautiful, inevitably repulses us. Because it reveals things to us that we can’t run from.
In the dark, we comfort one another and steal the breath from each other’s lungs in the same heartbeat. It’s filth, but it’s familiar. And we like knowing what to expect. We have come to accept misery because we are accustomed to its voice. I know the sound of sickness. It has always been inside my head. But the difference now is that I have experienced a taste of redemption. And true to form, I cannot get enough.
Sacrifice. That is love. That is redemption. I am something different now, and there’s no turning back. My conscience would have me tell you that if you see what I have to show you, you can’t turn back either. You will become like me; a hunter who knows what it means to be hunted. I’m letting you inside my head, inside the head of a monster.
Lucky you.
[A/N: I will be posting weekly updates to this story. I posted parts of it a while back, but took it down as I didn't feel that it was ready. I'm stoked to hear from you guys on what you think so far. Since I'm especially excited, I will post the first few chapters today just to get you into the story a little more before next week. ;) Unneccessarily rude or mean comments will be deleted, but all other feedback is welcome! Thank you, and please vote/follow/spread the word if you enjoy! I'm finally getting the confidence to post this, so any encouragement to keep posting would be AWESOME.]
YOU ARE READING
She Hunter
Paranormal"My vision swimming, I dropped to my knees beside her. The red blooming from the earth dyed my white dress and marked my body as scarlet as my heart. The picture before me blurred, and I lifted my hands to my face. They were red, dark and wet...stai...
