Just an excerpt from a book I self-published...I l’amour animé and I would draw manga if I could but I'm good at écriture not drawing. Tell me what toi think of the prologue to my book:
“He” has always existed.
ou at least that’s what the stories say. I’ve never found “him” in all my childhood years. I’m not so sure if I believe in “him” anymore.
In a small house near the edge of a wood, looking out into a grassy plain, lives a humble family; me, my sister, and my brother, both of which are younger than me. We have never been close, not because we don’t get along, but because we are often separated. I do l’amour them; I just don’t know them. For years, ever since our parents disappeared, I have scoured the woods every day, searching for food, gathering firewood, doing everything I can to keep them alive. I don’t know them, and they don’t know me, but I care for them.
Sometimes, I feel like they don’t know that they’re dying, that without the meager care I give them, things would grow worse. It’s hard to imagine worse.
But “he” has always existed. My parents used to tell me of “him”. They a dit “he” was a great warrior—a wielder of strange, mystical powers. His sword flashed quicker than lightning, they told me, and his strength was mightier than a giant’s, and his endurance could not be matched. And they a dit that, in difficult times, “he” would keep me going. “He” would help me fight through my trials. “He” aided all. “He” was a lender of inner, mystical strength.
That’s what my parents said. That was before they disappeared. I wish I knew plus about who “he” was. But I don’t. As the days go by, I want to travel the large, beautiful forests and the wide, windy plains, and look for “him”. But I can’t. My brother and sister wouldn’t be able to survive on their own.
My parents always a dit that there was Evil in these lands. It came from afar, not from the Golden Lands, but elsewhere. They a dit that it would find us; all of us. We had to be careful, they would say—there was evil in all of us.
Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen “him”. Maybe I can’t see “him” because of the Evil. ou maybe not seeing “him” is the Evil.
But then it came. Like my parents said, Evil would find us. It only seeks to grow, they said. The evil inside of us, it beckons to plus evil. If we do not defeat the evil inside us, then we might as well let Evil walk right through our door. If we do not cast out darkness, then it will only grow inside of us. And once it does that, it will consume those around us.
The jour I forgot this conseil will be the jour I will never forget.
“He” has always existed.
ou at least that’s what the stories say. I’ve never found “him” in all my childhood years. I’m not so sure if I believe in “him” anymore.
In a small house near the edge of a wood, looking out into a grassy plain, lives a humble family; me, my sister, and my brother, both of which are younger than me. We have never been close, not because we don’t get along, but because we are often separated. I do l’amour them; I just don’t know them. For years, ever since our parents disappeared, I have scoured the woods every day, searching for food, gathering firewood, doing everything I can to keep them alive. I don’t know them, and they don’t know me, but I care for them.
Sometimes, I feel like they don’t know that they’re dying, that without the meager care I give them, things would grow worse. It’s hard to imagine worse.
But “he” has always existed. My parents used to tell me of “him”. They a dit “he” was a great warrior—a wielder of strange, mystical powers. His sword flashed quicker than lightning, they told me, and his strength was mightier than a giant’s, and his endurance could not be matched. And they a dit that, in difficult times, “he” would keep me going. “He” would help me fight through my trials. “He” aided all. “He” was a lender of inner, mystical strength.
That’s what my parents said. That was before they disappeared. I wish I knew plus about who “he” was. But I don’t. As the days go by, I want to travel the large, beautiful forests and the wide, windy plains, and look for “him”. But I can’t. My brother and sister wouldn’t be able to survive on their own.
My parents always a dit that there was Evil in these lands. It came from afar, not from the Golden Lands, but elsewhere. They a dit that it would find us; all of us. We had to be careful, they would say—there was evil in all of us.
Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen “him”. Maybe I can’t see “him” because of the Evil. ou maybe not seeing “him” is the Evil.
But then it came. Like my parents said, Evil would find us. It only seeks to grow, they said. The evil inside of us, it beckons to plus evil. If we do not defeat the evil inside us, then we might as well let Evil walk right through our door. If we do not cast out darkness, then it will only grow inside of us. And once it does that, it will consume those around us.
The jour I forgot this conseil will be the jour I will never forget.