-Anaïs Nin

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.

Well everyone I guess I could go ahead and post the first chapter of my novel...

Lets see how everyone likes it shall we??

In the beginning…

Chapter 1

“Oh do come in out of the rain, friend,” I say as I see you outside in the pouring rain, “You will catch your death out there.” I move farther back in the cave as you enter, I take extra special care to stay in the shadows out of view. “What would you know about sickness? I don’t think you have ever been sick a day in your life!” You say quickly shaking off the water, that had accumulated on your cloak, I chuckle slightly at your comments, “Ah I may be in fine health now, but I was not always this healthy.” I say my voice grows thoughtful as I remember long forgotten days. “What do you mean?” You voice cuts through my memories, “What have I never told you of my past?” I ask apparently surprised. You shake your head throwing little water droplets everywhere. I sigh heavily, “Would you like to hear?” I ask shifting in the darkness. “Your stories?” You ask and look around its still pouring rain, “Eh why not should pass the time until the rain stops anyways.” You say sitting down. I smile, “I must ask, do you have a phone?” I say thinking quickly. “Yes, why do you need to use it?” You ask pulling out a small object. “Oh no, but I think it would be wise to record these stories, they are very…interesting.” You laugh slightly at this, “Everyone thinks their story is worth recording, but the real question is, is yours?” I smile, “You will have to be the judge of that,” I pause, “Push the record button and I shall begin.” You flip open the phone throwing a small amount more of light into the area, I flinch back away and make sure to stay in the shadows, “Where would you like me to begin?” I ask politely. “Hmmm, how about a story from your youth?” You say sitting the phone on your knee.” I nod, “Ah my youth you say. Well let’s begin.”