The Black Rose
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- Parts 45
MatureComplete Thu, Jun 22, 20238h 13m
If you're reading this, it probably means I've died, or gone completely mental and unceremoniously waged war against the shadows that created me. Whatever the reason, I hope you keep reading. I hope my words resonate as truth, that my story, no matter how insane it sounds, exposes the darkest corners of our world. I did all of these things, I killed all of those people, partly because I wanted to, and partly because I felt as if I had no choice. I am no saint. I know what my file says about me, that I'm a narcissistic, highly manipulative sociopath, a genius, incapable of love or empathy, incapable of following the rules, a villain, menace, a monster. While I wish I could say this was all false, it isn't.
My name was Danielle Renee Watson. I was born on July 14th 1993 in the small southern town of Kinston, NC. I was raised by my parents Richard and Angela Watson. On May 23rd, 2015, I died in a fatal car crash, my body burned beyond recognition. On that same day, I became Rose Forrester, a genetically modified, highly elusive assassin, created by The Shadow operation. This is my story.
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"One body: A death, a suicide, and now a murder. Lunacy is settling over, leaving its fingerprints on them, while breathing down their necks. The warm kiss of air is mistaken for nothing but a midnight breeze, and finger prints not much more than dirt. "Are you worthy enough, huh? Do you think I'm such a fool? You'll die there. Ashton Kahn. Mark my words. You are going to die and your family is going to live a dead life. You know what grief is? Of course, why would YOU know? You haven't been miserable for once in your life, have you? You have always been the super-star, haven't you? Of course you'll die. You deserve nothing but a deadly, rotten grave. You are such a chick, aren't you? Huh. I hate you Ashton Kahn. You are so mean. You think wealth is the world. You think beauty is the world. Don't you find having the best muscles, having the best grades, having the perfect eyes, having the perfect clothes, shoes-" Her words were so powerful, her expression meaner. She meant it. And how right she was. There I was, living a beautiful life. Of course I had no idea what misery is. I'd never been miserable for a second. Hah. She was giving me a lesson. The feeling was so intense, her words ruling my brain, empowering my veins. I was so useless. Have I ever cried? Have I ever thought why people say Life is just a Lie? Did I ever care why was the guy behind the coffee shop shutters crying? Did I ever gave it a second thought what did that guy felt when I called him Bozo? Or what was going on with that girl I heard of whose parents died a day ago? Of course, what was I capable of feeling? And there I had always thought I was the perfect me. The boy who could do anything. The boy who ruled. The boy who lived. Life is just a Lie. And for the first time in ever, I felt it to be so, so real. The reality of this was ever-awakening, it's power would have killed a soul. Life is just a Lie.
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