@Copyright 2013 all rights reserved
-Written By: LovableMonster-
(Dedication also to: @FireGoesDown for this amazingly beautiful side banner, sorry so short.)
-Prologue: Teardrops On A Fountain-
I move my hand against the water that flows through the huge Liveasea Fountain. Its stonework is amazing and the water is cold to the touch. I love the cold that shoots through my body. I take a seat on the edge and observe my surroundings. I focus my blue eyes on the little garden I'd claimed. It's close to my grandparents' house, which is far older than I am. I like old things though; I like what used to be beautiful. It reminds me so much of myself. It's strange, comparing a fountain to myself. Someone would think I'm crazy for thinking that.
My bare feet are cold since they skim the ground. A shiver runs through my body as my white nightgown doesn't provide much warmth. As I lay back I can see the night sky above me. The stars above gleaming like a million diamonds. I've always preferred starry nights because they make me feel safe. I also like the beautiful twinkles of light they make in the darkness. There's always a little bit of light in darkness, always.
My garden is a place I can get away from everyone and everything. It's both my safe haven and my comfort zone. It's also pretty much the only other place I can ever go besides my grandparents' house.
As I turn my head to the side, I see my reflection in the water. Brown hair and skinny limbs reflect back at me. There is a disheartening cut on my lip and a large burn mark near the hollow of my throat. It had all happened so quickly, yet the pain still remains. I don't like to remember that day, it brings back too many horrible memories for my stomach to digest. My heart doesn't like that despite my hatred of remembering, the past is constantly on my mind which always brings it pain.
I place a hand to it, running my fingers over the burn on my neck. The scars are much worse than the burns, you'd think it would be the other way around. There're less burns than scars though. I'm twenty-two and I've been through so much already. My childhood is a subject I don't often speak of. It was an awful time, and my scars are proof. The scars are the worse features that display the disaster, there's burns and bruises still left on my body as well. Although, the scars are the majority of my disfigurement. They stand out so much, you'd think they were purple or pink the way people notice them so quickly.
I close my eyes as the wind picks up, billowing my nightgown in the air which is soon joined by my brown curls. This place is my home now, a part of me I've learned to grow with. It's not perfect, but what place is? Nothing is perfect, absolutely nothing, not anymore. God didn't create things to be perfect. The house itself is fine, but it holds too many memories of my past, and my grandparents are always judging me about everything when I've done nothing wrong.
My thoughts drift back to the scars and bruises. I wasn't born with them though it is a story that is both gruesome and horrible. I haven't told anyone of it, not the exact details at least. No one even knows the story of the man who saved me; a man I didn't even get a chance to thank. He left far too quickly for me to even see his face. I wish I could have at least seen him again, to make sure he wasn't just my imagination. Although, I don't think my imagination killed Anthony that night...Oh...Anthony...
I can't let myself feel the pain anymore, that's why I constantly think of ending my life. Although, I'm too scared to find out what comes after death. I've tried drowning myself in the fountain once, but my grandparents came just in the nick of time. I also tried cutting myself with the kitchen knife, but I don't like to feel pain...What really frightens me about death is that I might not exist anymore and everything that's happened will just be erased, although that would be wonderful in some cases.
I shake my head, trying to forget about what happened as well as the subject of death; they both frighten me way too much for my liking. A woman, like myself, should not think about these things. Although somehow it's all that I have to think about. I guess I really should get out more to get those things off my mind but my grandparents won't allow it. They never let me leave and they never let me wander around. They don't even know about that dark day, in that dark alley. Now that's a subject I've forced my mind to forget about, nobody will know about that day, that's for sure. I wish I could promise that. Sadly, it seems like God will never show me any mercy. So promising that nobody will find out is like yelling it to the heavens.
The fountain is surrounded by gorgeous flowers, because of the nearby garden my grandmother's kept watered. There's chattering bugs and fireflies flying about above me. The fountain has an angel on top which makes the scene almost comical. The hedges circling around the fountain to form a cut open 'O' are covered in white roses. The first time I snuck out of the house to explore this little area it was almost magical but my grandparents found out when I couldn't get back inside. From then on they said I could go to the garden but not any farther. I let myself soak in the beauty for a moment, but thinking about beautiful things brings me back to reality.
I was born a somewhat normal child to parents who were supposed to love me unconditionally. That was 'of course, before I turned twelve and they disappeared without a trace. I miss my parents terribly, I so wish that they'd come back one day. I've given up thinking that they'll come back to me. I do still love them though and hope to God they are still alive in this cold world. I just hope they haven't been...No, I won't think it.
With my parents gone I'm left completely alone. Besides what little I have left of my family, I have no friends. The thought of befriending a freak like me isn't at the top of anyone's list. Why would anyone consider me a freak? Because of the accident that left my normal self disfigured. I've never heard of a person being born disfigured.That's just strange, bewildering, and yes, odd. I would never imagine what a person would look like, a person who could deserve something like disfigurement as a baby. I'm just fortunate that I wasn't born like those unlucky few.
Like I said, nothing God creates is perfect anyways. You always have at least one imperfection. You either have too small eyebrows, squinty eyes, or your nose is too big. Perfection is what most people strive for because its much more simpler and you usually get what you want. I know it sounds selfish but who wouldn't want to be perfect and beautiful?
My grandparents found me when my parents left and raised me from then on. The day they found me they told me something I would never forget. "You may think that your alone Jessalyn, and you may wear the look of pain, but your knight will come for you one day."
I never thought that what they said could have been true. That was, until the day of the accident. I consider the whole thing an accident of foolishness, or at least that's what I tell myself. My act of foolishness that is. I'm a foolish woman; I act foolish, I talk foolishly.
God, show me some mercy for once, please?
That's all I ask, I'm just poor ole' Jessalyn asking for your help for once.
Is that too much to ask?
I have lived with my grandparents for a year where they've kept me under lock and key. I was just a kid. I wanted to explore. The exploring triggered the accident, that's why I blame myself more than Anthony for everything that happened. If only I stayed at home, if only my wondering mind would let me be.
That was where my foolishness began. I never meant any harm or for things to turn out like this. Nobody ever plans for bad things to happen. Bad things are for bad people but they happened far more often to good than bad.
That day wasn't the only bad thing that has ever happened to me...I remember that other man...
I close my eyes tightly. I try so very hard to forget the other accident that occurred. I try to forget the precious gift I had to give up and wash away those memories. Its taken years to forget most of the memories of this particular accident but I still can't stop myself from remembering little bits and pieces that still continue to haunt me. Its just too traumatizing to forget, it's like an unfinished puzzle in my mind.
I let my tears fall into down my face; I always find myself crying, it's a bad habit. I suddenly open my eyes when I hear another sound. At first, everything is blurry from the tears until I wipe them away. Then I see nothing as a blindfold is pulled over my eyes. My heart starts racing.
What's going on?
I try to scream but a warm hand is clamped over my mouth. I fail at attempting to kick whoever is grabbing. It feels like there's only one person carrying me. I'm so weak I don't even get a glimpse of who blindfolded me, especially with stupid tears blocking my sight. I squirm in the person's grasp like a worm. I keep thinking in my head:
Someone help me!
Someone save me!
Please, I've been through enough already...
I try to struggle out of the person's grasp and restart my kicking method. I bite down on a hand but it still clamps down on me, but not roughly. I try to move my feet and then my hands though I'm nowhere near successful. I never would've known that the kidnapper is actually, in a way, saving me.
Just like that, I'm thrown into muscular arms that take me away, away from the only place I knew as home. Well, the only place I've known longest as home. Knowing I'll never get to say goodbye to my grandparents saddens me, but knowing they will be devastated, heartbroken, and crushed is even worse. I can't imagine them like that, but I can't do anything about it either.
Maybe it's better this way. I don't have to live with such pain anymore from people pointing or staring, or the constant memories reminding me of what I've been through. Because I've been through so much...I've always wanted to die, so maybe this is like God's mercy bestowed upon me...
Maybe it'll be different, wherever I'm going...Hopefully, that's what will happen, but I have little hope nowadays. It isn't hard to imagine why.
I'm not hoping for a better life...I'm just hoping things will be different. Different in a good way, but that's insane to think like that. This is a kidnapper, they don't often play around. I want to try kicking again, to try to get the gag off to scream. I'm not successful, especially when something slowly makes my eyes close, something that makes me slowly pass out...
Maybe...Just maybe...This will be worse...