Six years ago, I went through the hardest thing I hope to ever go through in my life. It was a time of turmoil and betrayal. Those I turned to for help abandoned me, let me down, turned on me. I felt cheated and abused by life and hated any song or story that had a happy ending. My story was not ending happily and I resented how every sad story seemed to end with some form of happy. I was angry at a good many people and at the world. So I wrote.
I wrote in my journal, but after a time writing about my life was depressing. So I turned to fiction. If I could not have justice in real life, I would take revenge in fantasy. I began writing gruesome scenes that were filled with violence and rage. And I felt better. The scenes we're so raw and so powerful, I had to create a story around them.
At first it was broken and filled with random scenes. The first draft was crude, although amazingly brilliant in my eyes. Then life took me away and I put my story away.
It took six years to create, finish, revise and edit my story. As I embark on this journey towards publishing, I often think back on those first days of writing. Filled with hated, rage, and anguish, I sat in a booth of the restaurant I worked at, writing horror in a pale blue miniture notebook, scribbling so fast that some parts are almost illegible. I still have that notebook, and every piece of paper I scratched pieces of my art on.
I love my book. I have read it so many times that I find myself sick of the story, only to want to dive back in yet again. For every person who reads it I get a thrill. So please, dive into my story filled with twists and horror and hope and pain.
Excerpts from Revenge Unknown
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