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A man must unravel the fantasies woven by his mother since birth. |
| [Introduction]
Steven is now a grown man, but all his life he has been made to believe that his father and family are wonderous and fabulous. As a child these stories were perfect and always made sense, but as an adult Steven now can't help but be skeptical and wonder why his mother has made up so many tall tales about thier family. What is she hiding from him, and more importantly what is she hiding from. This story was inspired by a movie I seen plus some imagination. Help with the unfolding of this terrific tale, but keep it semi-clean. Thank you and have fun!
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| While walking once amongst the wildest of trees a voice spoke to me. From a distance it encouraged me to seek the meanings and secrets that life had in store for me. That day forward I started the personal journey that would eventually lead me to my passions. I live to discover the truth, and I'll die to uncover the mysteries behind my families sins... I am Steven McDouglas, and this is my story: My mother gave birth to me behind our house in the gallos, near the tomatto garden, amongst the pricly pines and dying grass. I, of course, do not have any memory of that day or any of my childhood for that matter. However, my mother has told the story of my birth so often and with so much emotion and mystical detail that sometimes I feel as though there is a hint of foggy memory surrounding that day. But in reality I believe my mother is just a great liar and wonderful story teller. She remembers too much and everything she ever speaks of is so fantastic and beautiful that there is no way it can all be true. Just like she says my father was a spectacular scientist, he was unknown to most of the the world though because he was always traveling and doing his research and studies non-funded, but using money from hiw own inheritance. She tells amazing tales of his adventures and has produced old letters he had written her while on one study or another. Reaccounting magical trips around the world and claiming to have found plant life that could cure every possible illness if only he could find away to package it and send it back to the states. Such remarkable genious it must have taken for her to keep these fantastic lies for such a long time. And all the horrors which must have been in her life to make her feel she had to lie about everything. I wonder sometimes if she's ever really been happy. And if she truly believes all the things she's told everyone. I have never met another living relative and even mother's closest of friends do not know what to believe and what to just chalk up to mother's great imagination. When I turned twelve I decided I'd become a lawyer, that way I would always be able to discover the truth about things. That whole summer i went back and forth on the idea, it was either that or be a detective and I didn't care much for the Holmes' series. I graduated top of my class at Harvard, studying law was not only interesting to me but I felt like I had to put in all my efforts if I were ever to become fullfilled. So there were no great keg parties for me and I made it a point to stay away from the ladies. I didn't need any distractions. I felt I already had enough on my mind as it was. And so, I wasn't particularly liked while in school and I certainly was not popular and I did see how easily it ould come to pass to be unknown while being so involved with your work. Mother used to come and visit me every weekend that she could. But as soon as I would start asking questions about dad she would announce that she was needed back home and instantly remember someone she was supposed to meet or something she had forgotten to do. ANd she'd pick up and leave. ANd the years went by like this still never knowing the truth and I always felt like I couldn't talk to my mother. I couldn't share my feelings with her because I didn't trust her and I didn't feel she was ever being honest with me. I vowed to myself then, that I'd never keep anything from my future children. I couldn't stand lies and I didn't want to bury my pain under the deseption of warm and happy make believe. My mother passed away while I was in the middle of my opening speach for my very first trial. She had always been pretty healthy so the death was a complete surprise. Friends that witnessed it say she just peacefully put her down at the dinner table and looked as though she were napping. I guess in the end, for her, she finally became a part of her own dream world. Joining her make believe perfect husband and riding off to some magical place on his white stallion. I felt terrible when I learned of her death. NOt only because I loved her deeply but also because I realized I'd never be able to get the answers from her that I'd always felt seh'd give me in time. I always thought if I just waited long enough and were patient enough she'd drop the act and just tell me all I wanted to know. I was angery too, for the same reasons. I felt cheated, from knowing the facts of my past. Now I try to dig into the records I can find. Sitting up all hours of the night, reading and making notes. Sometimes it's like I'm a lawyer and a detective. Only my career as a lawyer is going much better these days. I keep coming up short with my fact digging. No one seems to know anything I just keep getting the wild stories my mother used to tell- watered down a bit, but the same crap all the same. |
| There always seemed to be walls put up at every turn I took with my research and the strange dreams had been coming more frequently since my mother's death. Each night I would revisit a town that felt familiar, yet upon awakening I could never recall a name or why it seemed to feel like home. Trudy, an attractive young lady in a rival law firm had been calling the office non stop since the newspaper revealed an up coming case involving a mobster from down south and a missing body of a senator. There just felt like too much on my plate, I needed a vacation. But it was only midsummer and there was still so much work to be done if there was even a chance on pulling off this new case. Why did I have to keep obsessing over my restless nights? Why did these strange dreams keep invading my thoughts whenever I tried to think of anything else? All I could think was possibly these dreams, held some kind of key to my past. Within them there might be a clue that would unlock hidden memories that could eventually put me on some realistic path towards learning the truth about my family and myself. If only I could figure out what they mean, what they have to do with me now and why I keep finding myself in a town that feels so familiar. I might just lose my mind if I can't get to the bottom of this soon. |
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