Highest Ranking #13 ( in Paranormal )
WINNER of
The Raven Awards
The Mystical Awards
The Blooming Awards
The Wattpad Oscar Awards
Something lurks in the basement of the Thompson House; something dark, something sinister, something diabolical.
...
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A while it has been, since I had last written any piece, be it a newspaper article or a few lines of sorrow to the mate of a deceased associate of mine; the possibility of which not being alarming given the risk of the career I have chosen.
As disturbing and horrendous as my actions may sound to you, I assure you, all these deeds, misdeeds as some may claim, all fall under the bold label of justice. I further assure you that, not having a diabolical mind, all these mishaps for the greater good were done with a heavy heart indeed and only on insistence of my similar hearted folk; not a minor plausibility so as to avoid the plight of those who suffered, ignored.
And yet I find myself praying for the souls of the afflicted, rather dead, and thereby hoping forgiveness so my life will not become further darker and gloomier. That said I have long forgotten my faith in such hopes since doom is all my life has ever known.
Folks, I wonder if my blabbering, the foolish whispers of this presumably old and dangerous man, are any good to you. Make no mistake, I am not an old blithering grumpy grandfather of yours whose wisdom is comparable to that of God's ( if He exists, I might as well add ). Neither am I a fool at the prime of my youth taking decisions rashly. I am not stupid, thank you.
I am a somebody. Not the celebrated somebody folks would gather around and cheer for no apparent cause. Neither a nobody sitting in a corner of a bar, forlorn.
I am a somebody whose existence may not matter to many, like theirs does not to me. However, there is another certain somebody, with whose existence mine is intricately tangled.
No, do not be mistaken. I speak not of a lady walking down the stairs of a church beside me, smiling beautifully at the jolly crowd and blushing slightly at their blessings and wishes. Albeit, I would have loved to do so.
Contrarily enough, I happen to be talking about another lady who destroyed the moon of my life.
I was robbed of my light, my sky was left unadorned of its jewel, my earth was stolen from its beauty, my mind from its sanity, my soul from its spirituality...and all that remained with me was void. A humongous void infinite and limitless in both its expanse and the weight of its emptiness. And then a different emotion arose altogether from the seamless depths of this ocean of void that gave my life a purpose; a purpose not too dissimilar from what I had been doing for the longest of time.
