Evelyn's Cellar - Preface

Authors Notes: Yes i know nothing is really explained in this, but remember it is a preface: a short introductory essay preceding the text of a book( according to Google).

I appreciate any help possible, positive remarks are not always the best. Some of the best reviews I have received in the past were very bold; and those are the kinds that help. I'd rather you try to have me rewrite the whole thing in the aim to make it better than have you say, "oh it was good, i liked it don't change anything!"< ~ that doesn't help at all.

Comment, Rate, Appreciate... thanks!

I tell you my story because no one else will; mine is not one most would find to be a suitable subject in polite conversation.

Don't be discouraged; I promise to make it interesting, that won't be hard since I have not lived a boring life. Make note that I do caution you about the content in this novel; it is meant to open your eyes, not blind you. I censor NOTHING, everything portrayed in here is depicted from truth. If I say a spaceship landed in my backyard you must believe me (there was no spaceship, it's just an example). This is a timely piece, its purpose is to capture the era of which I grew up in.

I want you to know, you need to know... it wasn't all as glamorous as you may think. We will look back on this in 20 years and laugh; this may be the ramblings of an unstable 20 something but I write to inspire thought.

I don't ask you to like what I say, only to have an open mind about it.

~~~

All evidence was to the contrary, even so, I could feel its brilliant rays reach my eyes with a blast of warm defiance. It warmed my skin; the goose bumps which held their nightly grasp on my arms were evaporating. The sun, in all her glory, had risen hours ago and was just starting to brighten my day. This confused me, was it a trick? Had I not just been surrounded by total darkness? Weren't the goose bumps canvassing my skin under the blameless moonlight?

Oh well, I guess it doesn't matter; it's sunny now and that's what counts. Izzy, you will be proud to hear about the sun. You would prefer I talk about it, it stops you from asking weary questions. Even though it's the moon, an eternal darkness filled with unanswered questions that I prefer, but I'll never tell you that. The sun, in all her glory, opens my eyes to a world to a world I don't want to see.

Ha! You must think me unbalanced! Of course you do.

I guess if I was reading this from another's perspective I'd agree I was. Crazy people don't know their crazy right? That is, until, you are told you are insane, and think they're insane for ever insinuating the reality you have came to know, and love, is a fallacy. Then! From their unbalanced accusation you start questioning it, what do you believe? What they have told you or what you trust? Are they themselves figments of my overworked imagination as well? Slowly picking away at my sanity?

That can make anyone paranoid.

You try to blame my solitary life, where I grew up, who I hung out with; Far off from the problem. Be obvious Dear Thorns! Think! Friends kept me sane, or so I thought.

But again, friends were simply just there, desensitized like repetitious music in the background.

A lily among the thorns.

You kept telling me I was too absorbed in my second reality to notice the strong bond I had with those around me. I was open and honest with you. I told you everything, and when I did, I never regretted it. I was happy. " ...a sunny moment through a world of fog," you would quote me whenever I resurfaced from my so called second reality. The sun is too bright, burning my irises with a truth I do not want to face. You keep telling me, during this sunny day, that he is gone.

You lie. Decieve me! He can't be gone...

He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye, if he's gone, they took him...

Thorns....

Even so, he is gone... and I am alone. The sun mocks me, how can it be so bright and so warm when all I want to feel is deaths' cold grip grasp my shoulders and pull me away. There is no life without him, therefore there should be no sun. I knew him before I met him and nothing can change that.

Anyways, I am writing to say goodbye. I may not have said it before and I won't say it again but I was aware of my 'illness' as you called it, but it brought peace to a world too bright for my liking. I am grateful for what you have tried to do for me; but alas, I am alone. But not for long.

Evelyn,

P.S. Someone will have to feed Carl for me. Ian on 1st floor ate What, silly boy, so there's no need to feed her. Oh and by the way, if you let me have paper I wouldn't of had to write this on the walls. I pity the cleaners who have to remove my nice long letter here written with the black marker I stole from a nine year old girl on 2nd floor...

E.