The Drenched Truth (Power Series)

*Chapter 1

1) the book varies from 1st to 3rd point of view. In first person I speak as the main character almost narrating one could say.
2) I do not use ''pov'' as this isnt a play write. None of professionally published books that I own uses ''pov'' .
3) 1st and 3rd person point of views are seperated with quotes.

4) this book is typed via phone. Errors will occur.

I wasn't born here, yet this place has become my very breath and heartbeat. The bush around me is of the never-ending kind, the ground of a reddish-brown color and the grass, during summer times, yellow like mustard.

The grass seldom turns up green, it's a rare sight unless the rains adorned the earth with a few weeks of nonstop drizzles only then, new sprouts will spring forth in patches here and there, but when no rain was present the grass remained yellow and it would almost seem like they were yellow from the start.

Of course, the grass never remained so clattered up against each other because the elephants and other wild animals would feed on it leaving wide empty patches. ...

No matter which place I'd end up going, I would find myself searching for that yellow grass and that reddish-brown ground.

No, I wasn't born here, but my connection with this place runs so deep that I might have been a child born in this land... I was five when father chose to move here, to the Tuli Block after hearing the great possibilities this country called Bechuanaland has.

I remember so clearly how my grandfather protested against the fact that mother and I had to live in tents until father finally completed the build of our stunning villa.

We lived for a year in the tents, which at times mother had to hand sow back together after a gush of wind would tear through it and during that year, we had the floor fixed twice...

Amazing how floors made of cow dung and this exact red sand held together so well. During the built of the villa, father had two of his workers fix up the yard, slowly but surely building the gardens to the success it is today and he kept the trees intact only removing a few.

Trees are a huge part of the Bechuanaland habitat. Especially the Mopane, Acacia, and Baobab trees and they were also now an important part of our gardens. Yes, so it is...

I wasn't born here but I have my soul resting here... Here were the mustard yellow grass cracks from under your feet when walking, here where the reddish-brown ground sticks to your skin like glue ...

Here where the trees give the sound of thousands of clapping hands when the wind happily sings, here where the birds tell you a story ...of love found, love lost, love found again, and new beginnings.

Here where the sun says goodbye with yellows, pinks, purples and red colors painted through the skies; here where the sky is so blue you could get lost by staring at it.

Here where peace can perhaps be found in the simpler of things.

However, my soul may be a part of this place. I must admit that the peace I seek, I cannot find in long walks through the bush or focusing on the sound of the wind and I am faced with the realization that if I'm not able to save myself… I could most likely leave my soul here and search for better ways to live by.

But when you have been kept away from family and people you love; you lose connections and you're left alone with no idea of how to move on along.... and it is exactly this question that deeply troubled me today of all days. Yes, my dear, I am no longer at ease, everything inside of me churning with waves of tornado-like emotions building up within myself and I feel nothing but trapped.