Shattered Pretty ~ INTRODUCTION

Shattered Pretty

A René Allen Online Epic

Wherein the Members of the Blog become

part of the cast of characters!

The Cast

SEE the full Cast of Gather's

own dynamic authors and

writers who opted to come on

board for the Epic

Shattered Pretty

The Characters will appear on

 The Cast listing

on Monday, March 18th, 2013 at 7:00 p.m. Eastern Time!

{The EXCLUSIVE Gather Epic Online

MIND experimental e-Read where the readers

can opt to become part of the Cast}

Introduction

Behind the mask was a woman who had seen more than she needed to see. She was somebody who nobody knew, but whom everyone could relate to whether they knew it or not. She was headed on a journey that would take her to this place from which she could take the time to escape from what she had been through. She had been emotionally, mentally, and physically drained by a monster of a man that she never wanted to see again in her life. She despised him. She loathed him.

The whole ordeal had taken a toll on her psyche. There were so many things that she wished she could forget, but the main thing she wanted to forget was ~ that man ~ that demon. All that represented him made her sick. He was a control freak that cared for no one but himself and his money. He gobbled up people like the pac man animated character. He always had an ulterior motive for everything that he did. And, nothing he did was ever godly. He had none of the qualities of the people that raised her. Nothing he did was like the way she had been raised. She had been raised to be kind and caring to people. To love them as she loved herself. To speak to people in the way that she would like to be spoken to. She was not a harsh, nor brash person. But right now, she didn't know if she loved herself. She didn't even know who she was anymore.

There was an art poster that the demon had purchased that he hung in her room. That heathen mind that he had was ever working. And most of the time it was ever working against her. He did it to make her feel bad about herself. But, what had happened was just the opposite, it gave her the ability to see something in that art poster that wasn't readily seen by anyone not looking for it. That art poster was by Mario Sanchez Nevado. It depicted a woman who had been shattered it seemed. Shattered Pretty in her eyes. It brought to her mind the fire that God had placed within her. The fire that would transform her into gold. She could see within that woman in the art poster a movement that was causing her to shatter...shatter to the point of breaking free of the ugliness that enslaved her.

She still had her soul. She knew that much. She knew that what was within her she would never lose. Hurray for the ability to move forward. She suddenly felt a glimmer of hope emerging. Thank God for the train. Just thank God...

On the train ride, she thought, and she thought, and she thought some more. It seemed she had become somewhat of a dummy after having been involved with the creature from hell. Whenever she would speak, he would look at her as if she were a piece of trash. The bastard! She hated him. He'd say things like, “I don't know what you're talking about.” Sometimes in a loud harsh tone, and sometimes in a very sinister low tone. Then he'd look at her like 'what a stupid girl you are'. He'd tell her ~ no matter what she said ~ that it made no sense. He had a demeaning spirit. His looks and his words had a castrating effect, if there is such a thing, she thought. His whole existence made no sense to her. Why did God even create him? He was a self-absorbed psychopath. What was the purpose of birthing that demonic spirit? The world would be a much better place without him ~ she thought. She was convinced that he was not a child of God, but of that other father ~ the wicked one.

She was only 20 years old, and yet she seemed ancient in her mind. She felt like she was more around 120 years old. The one thing that she never wanted to do was to even think his name into the atmosphere. He was eternally a nobody to her. She was going to treat him just like he treated her ~ like a nobody. Her goal was to erase him from her spirit. She would eradicate everything he had ever done to her ~ in word or deed.

Just as she thought that thought, she had a flashback of her hand on that broken window... 

And as she saw the scene of it in her mind, she winced. Only the neighbor heard her. Only the neighbor understood what was happening to her. Her neighbor had watched. And with her fine tuned ears, her neighbor had heard. She finally found out what her neighbor's name was only after her neighbor had taken her to the hospital, and kindly waited for them to examine her, and then release her back into her neighbor's care. They got to know each other only then. Only after she had been somewhat freed from what had seemed like her endless prison.

After the police report had been filed. Her neighbor helped her to get on the train with the money she had received from her church. She cried as she left her at the train depot. She had seen the tears roll down her face. She was unable to cry any tears any more herself, so she supposed that her neighbor had shed tears for the both of them. She could only look back at her neighbor once she put one foot on the step of that train, and know. She knew then with each tear drop that fell on the inside of her that there were caring people in the world. There were people who cared, and loved, and hurt, and also knew how to feel compassion for others. She finally understood that there were some people that were not rude, nor crude, nor callous. She knew it. She could sense it. She could feel it. Leaving New York was the best thing that had happened to her and for her good in a long time. She had prayed for it. Could it be that she was on her way to experience it ~ happiness? She wondered.

Then another thought flashed through her mind ~ She remembered the moment the Train Attendant spoke to her and asked her what her name was...

She couldn't remember for a second what her name was. Then she heard someone behind her in line to get on board the train say, “What is SHE doing?!” That is what the monster used to call her, “She”. He would always refer to her as, “She”. She didn't have a name that he would speak out loud. That just seared her through and through ~ hearing whoever the man was say those words.

She was sitting in her seat next to no one. By herself. Alone. She was contemplating what Albuquerque, New Mexico would be like. Who would she meet? What would her place look like. The church had a home there waiting for her. But what would it look like? How would her neighbors be?

Thinking, thinking, and then finally, right there in her seat, by herself, alone, she stopped thinking and softly feel asleep.

...to be continued...