THE WORLD MY FAMILY CREATED

Prologue: Perfection . . . At the Edge of Chaos

               I’ll never forget the sunrise on the day the world as we knew it ended, and a new one began. I’ll never forget the way the valley looked that morning as I sat in my favorite tree, watching the final sunrise. The overcast sky seemed to be set ablaze by it, giving off an ethereal glow. The mist that hung close to the top of the mountains appeared to take on the look of halos hanging peacefully over the heads of sleeping angels. Behind me the night sky was starting to fade, the stars slowly sinking into a sea of blue. I remember that it was cold that morning. It was always cold, but this cold didn’t just seem to come from without. It came from deep within, from my very bones. I remember that it was unusual that I could not see my breath that morning, and thinking that my soul had died. I’ll never forget the way this perfect scene was shattered as Tom’s car came around the bend in the mountain road, sputtering and smoking, ugly, cancerous; a harbinger of Doom.

               At times that morning seems like years ago, at other times just like yesterday. It always seems vivid, though. It seems more like a photograph or movie permanently etched in my mind, than a memory that fades, or a dream that does the same, or a nightmare.

               Lord knows that I always prayed it was a nightmare. I spent every night of my lost childhood praying I’d wake up in my room, safe and sound. Instead I just fell to sleep, and had nightmares.

               Nightmares within nightmares.

               Living nightmares...