There comes a time in the life of all, when all that you believed and, trusted in, when all emotions you thought you knew come to naught. The day will come it surely will when Darkness comes knocking at your door. It does not look much like anything though; it definitely does not look like evil.
It portrays itself as harmless; it smiles with a trust in its eyes that captivates the heart of the broken. Common Sense will whisper in your ear to not let it in, but Doubt will put its foot in the door, making you want to listen and learn more.
It is then in that moment of weakness when all you want to do is give up, give in, that you dare to listen to the honey- covered words it speaks. It is when you are watching all that you have known or believed yourself to be being dragged down in a swirl of grey and the awful sound that silence makes. When you look at your image in the window and staring back at you is the void your identity laid in.
The soothing chants and whispers of Doubt will cloud your mind and make you believe that none of what you have been taught is real. He makes you believe and then doubt that belief at the same moment. Negative and Positive storm at you, take names and faces and wage war over what you once held dear and sacred. God fades into an old book and witches come alive from another. White now has shades of black, and in black there is no redemption.
It is then at that very moment, the moment you will not exactly remember, when you look around for something to grasp onto, to hold onto, so you can save yourself from falling. But looking around you will find only empty eyes, showing no interest or clicking their tongues in pity at the pretty young girl, lost in self pity. They cannot see what I see, or hear the voices screaming at me. They feel not the hurt burning me like acid, with no relief from it.
It is when you look into the eyes of the ones you thought loved you, and assumed that you loved, and find nothing there to keep you standing, when Faith and all it entails simply vanishes with your identity.
I have learned that there is more to me than just the name I was given or the dreams held for me by those that gave me life. There was more to me than just silly little feelings and obscure ideas. There had to be, because the day I opened that door all hell broke loose with all it contained, and all heaven stood at attention and even it
I do not know what or who the Key is, not even now, and it has already been years. I have forgotten my face and my name, instead I have seen monsters and heard angels sing. I have witnessed Truth standing against Pride and I have learned that sometimes it is better to fight back and forcefully take what was once yours, than to just let go and give in.
I am still searching for the Key, as are they, now it is a race against time. I will once again remember all, I will once again stand tall; for now I will have to watch from within the confines of the cages built for me.
I have learned that Faith holds no honor and Love is a word used by heartless people, I doubt very much whether Innocence survived Golgotha, and whether it was Innocence that died that day, or whether Love just had enough and gave up. I have seen demons rise from emotions and angels grow from Fear, but I have yet to see me again … I have no face and no eyes, but what I have is the right to choose …
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About the Author
ABOUT THE AUTHOR I was born on the 1st of March 1970 in Bloemfontein. Grew up in Natal and grew old in Gauteng. 41 Years later, I am married , have three children, and still refuse to be normal, or what people would constitute as normal. My world is a world of fantasy, that is where I am grounded, reality surrounds me daily, and whether I like it or not I face it, but I have learned to face it with a dash of fantasy in every situation. I still believe in faeries and netherworlds. Beasties and creepy thingies with fuzzy tails live in my world. There are vampires and lycans, witches and mortals. Rules are made up as we go, and worlds are created when the whim takes me. Language is no barrier because it is all in my mind. My children are a constant inspiration for characters and the mischief they get up to, people around me fascinate me and from them are born villains and heroes, monsters and gods. From the religions of humans and the arguments they hold, plots have arisen and worlds were destroyed and rebuilt. Emotions, words and feelings come to life where I live and control is a little boy with sticky hands. Friends are angels and lovers are demons. Humans have strange powers and little hobgoblins stranger names. I believe in God, but see Him in such an different way that even those that call themselves kin, distance themselves and frown. There is no difference to me between light and darkness, both hold beauty and horror. I am currently busy with the second book in the Beautiful Deception series … once again the characters lead me, the worlds beckon me , and I just write. I have an idea , I see the words take shape and form themselves, it is a marvelous adventure and one I trust you will enjoy with me.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
I have read about 180 pages or so and I have no idea what is happening. I went to the last of the book and found a list of the characters and discovered that each of the characters (of which there are 20 or more) is an emotion or stands for something else such as wisdom or the key but that didn't help either. I very rarely don't finish a book but this one I finally had to stop reading. The writing style is disjointed and the story is told from numerous points of view. Most of the time you have no idea whose viewpoint the narrative is coming from. It makes no sense. I'm truly sorry because I thought this was going to be an enjoyable read judging from the book synopsis given. Well that synopsis was the only part that made sense. I read 10 + books per week and I don't think I have ever read a book that I coulldn't figure out what was going on. I also have never written a bad review even if I didn't really care for the book. This book I just felt like I needed to give my feedback on. Sorry and good luck to the author. Maybe better next book?
The author clearly has an idea of what is going on, but the reader is not given much to work with. Mysterious characters that go unnamed and undefined, but get a whol chapter to themselves. A location, Ireland, but no time period given to help the reader with a frame of reference. I am over 150 pages in and I don't have much clue who is what and what the point of the story is. The author seems to be trying to convey the life of mystery of the characters, but ends up leaving the reader rather mystified. And top off the bizzarre and convoluted writingstyle, the author seems to have a poor grasp punctuation, though typos are at a minimum. I have no intention of finishing this book. Perhaps fans of the Mystery genre would enjoy the challenge of untangling all the knots.