RE: New novel hopeful
July 27, 2015 at 2:28 am
(This post was last modified: July 27, 2015 at 2:29 am by Silver.)
Chapter Three (not yet complete) for all you fans out there.
I had been ready to take a permanent vacation from life when it afforded me the opportunity to survive. People were the problem. They always had been. Growing up, I was always told that I would outgrow my shyness.
What was mistaken for shyness was merely a complicated reaction to everyone around me.
It took me years to figure out, without any need of therapy, that I was empathetic to such a degree that those around me affected me by way of how they were feeling.
Imagine working in retail where one is constantly bombarded by the emotions of others. It literally drove me insane. I attempted to control it, but such a condition is no more controlled than one's sexuality. I was fired and my parents blamed me.
I cowered into my books for refuge, allowing my mind to be at peace with what my imagination could control with no outward interference.
It also became clear to me that people liked me better when I was quiet. It made them uncomfortable at first that I was unwilling to engage socially, but as soon as I opened my mouth I seemed to offend everyone.
My spoken words, I soon learned, were abrasive in a way that others considered too honest and too logical. It seemed that no one wanted the truth. Rather, they wanted sugar coated false happiness wrapped in silly merriment.
Was I sad to see them gone?
Not at all.
After all, I was finally at peace. It was the kind of peace that offered me the opportunity to no longer be bombarded by the emotions of others.
The greatest disaster of the century ensured my peace. Certainly, it ensured the loss of the lives of everyone, as far as I knew, but peace always came at a price.
I could not be certain that absolutely everyone had been obliterated by what stalked during the day, but I did know that I alone had survived in the trailer park where I had been raised by my father.
My travels along the road were no exception. I encountered no one, and I was thankful for the one that mattered to me most.
My cat as the passenger was not the problem and traveling at night was not the problem.
I was cruising along with my thoughts to provide me comfort when I encountered a road too congested for me to pass. All I could think was that clearly the town had been hit hard.
Not to be deterred, I directed the motorcycle off the road and cruised along until I was able to find an opening within the town that welcomed me to Madison Mills.
I had been ready to take a permanent vacation from life when it afforded me the opportunity to survive. People were the problem. They always had been. Growing up, I was always told that I would outgrow my shyness.
What was mistaken for shyness was merely a complicated reaction to everyone around me.
It took me years to figure out, without any need of therapy, that I was empathetic to such a degree that those around me affected me by way of how they were feeling.
Imagine working in retail where one is constantly bombarded by the emotions of others. It literally drove me insane. I attempted to control it, but such a condition is no more controlled than one's sexuality. I was fired and my parents blamed me.
I cowered into my books for refuge, allowing my mind to be at peace with what my imagination could control with no outward interference.
It also became clear to me that people liked me better when I was quiet. It made them uncomfortable at first that I was unwilling to engage socially, but as soon as I opened my mouth I seemed to offend everyone.
My spoken words, I soon learned, were abrasive in a way that others considered too honest and too logical. It seemed that no one wanted the truth. Rather, they wanted sugar coated false happiness wrapped in silly merriment.
Was I sad to see them gone?
Not at all.
After all, I was finally at peace. It was the kind of peace that offered me the opportunity to no longer be bombarded by the emotions of others.
The greatest disaster of the century ensured my peace. Certainly, it ensured the loss of the lives of everyone, as far as I knew, but peace always came at a price.
I could not be certain that absolutely everyone had been obliterated by what stalked during the day, but I did know that I alone had survived in the trailer park where I had been raised by my father.
My travels along the road were no exception. I encountered no one, and I was thankful for the one that mattered to me most.
My cat as the passenger was not the problem and traveling at night was not the problem.
I was cruising along with my thoughts to provide me comfort when I encountered a road too congested for me to pass. All I could think was that clearly the town had been hit hard.
Not to be deterred, I directed the motorcycle off the road and cruised along until I was able to find an opening within the town that welcomed me to Madison Mills.
"Never trust a fox. Looks like a dog, behaves like a cat."
~ Erin Hunter
~ Erin Hunter
