I burned my old journal, page by page, in a mix of fury, rage, and fear for what it could possibly expose to others if found. Now, I finally decided to start a new and recapture those lost memories so that one day others can learn from my life. Honestly, it will most likely be kept within the family and I doubt Darren will ever give away those secrets that lie between these pages. Not all are obvious and blunt and some I may not even realize I’m fully disclosing. At any rate, I can’t do much else lately but recall the past thirty years of my life and scrutinize every second. I remind myself constantly that I don’t exactly regret some things nor would I have played it out differently at this point because then I wouldn’t be who I am. Sometimes I thought I didn’t know who I was or that I didn’t want to be the woman I was turning into. Which brings me to describe the three most important men in my life and how they each represent a piece of me; a piece of my soul.
For the sake of argument, I am only going to discuss the living and not talk about my father. It’s not that I didn’t love him, because he was my favorite person in my life and has done so much for me in the few years I knew him. I bring him up though just to reference why the little boy with bright blue eyes, stood out to me one day in the busy streets of Blackpond. Grown up now, Jacob resembles my father in many ways, in only that he reminds me of him and although I call him my brother, in strength, heart, and soul, he is not by blood. At least, I don’t think. Ancestral history is a bit confusing for me and I won’t get into that now.
Jacob Allen Turner. Jake. Jakey. My Jakey-Bear. Although many years younger than myself, I never once treated him as a child in the way that I ruled over him or that he was not an equal. Jake was always my equal, who I shared almost everything with. He met me at a time where I thought I had lost myself; those building blocks that make a soul. Jake, to me, is humanity. I see it so much clearer now than when we were children. I adored him then because of his ignorance and yet he absorbed everything like a sponge with such indifference towards me. Still now, even if he clearly doesn’t like something I say or do, he loves me.
Jake’s kindness and innocence brought me back from a darkness that was swelling in me. That darkness never left, understand, but he helped remind me of what was still there inside of me and that I did matter. He was my ONLY beacon of hope to turn to, even though he didn’t fully understand how or why I belonged to someone else and how I was a slave. He only knew they were cruel to me and that was enough for him to know it was wrong.
So for all intents and purposes, Jacob is apart of my soul. He is what can only be described as love and compassion. Humanity. Jake is the reason I was open to the possibility of love and could find it in the most unlikely places, which leads me to the other part of my soul.
The villain from my nightmares; those stories my father told me as a child. How was I to know they were not just stories? How would I know that one day, what I feared I would become. It’s a bit complicated to many. How can one love and be compassionate and have this urgency to kill. To be fair, I don’t go on murderous rampages and peel the flesh off of children. Growing up as a product of child abuse in every form, you can image what my pet peeves are and what will set me off. So to understand what drew me to Luckas you would have to read the other entries, our history of how we met in a dark alley one fateful night when I came upon him and his latest victim. He could have killed me and most definitely, even after everything, I believed he should have, I’m happy he didn’t. Luke didn’t have the strength, an act of mercy, or something inside my mind that caught his eye when he infiltrated my thoughts and the very being of who I was– All are possible reasons. Needless to say I lived and I should not have remembered him, but there again came that dark eyed figure haunting my dreams; only this time I longed to know him.
Something in our minds latched on to one another, forming a psychic link we had no clue was even there. We didn’t understand it for a long time or were even able to reach all corners of it’s potential, until after some time we were fated to meet again.
Luckas is a killer. He enjoys watching other writhe and suffer. Much like myself in many ways, although our…decision making in choosing our victims is not always the same. But to each his own. How would I judge him for something I do myself? I have limitations of course, which he has come close to crossing and some I know he never will, because as much as he believes he is a monster, I know he can’t be more of one than I am.
I fell for him in my dreams, as I watched him age over the years. It was odd feeling like you knew someone for a long time and yet knew nothing about the stranger before you. Just like myself, there was so much both of us were keeping hidden from the world, so I always saw something beneath his cold exterior. I don’t shun him for who he is and neither does he me. We accept one another, even those parts we never fully comprehend. Different and yet similar, we encompass several sides of the world, of life, that has created a most unusual bond. He is my friend, my ally, companion, partner, and that other half of my soul that borders that darkness as if he were peeking out from the shadows. My Shadow. We take care and protect one another. He keeps me grounded in a manner so I don’t become someone else than myself. My greatest fear. He may not realize it, but he does. I love that I can be myself around him. From every tear to every drop of blood shed with him, he is mine and I am his. No one needs to understand that connection but us. Sometimes I wonder if I would let the world burn just to be near him.
Now, we come to the love of my life. My son, Darren. I was led to believe he had died at birth only to discover he was a pawn in some twisted business deal between those who sought to possess and torment me. Growing up with his father, who was, to say the least, a horrid excuse of a man but to not come out anything like that, was simply a miracle to me. He resembles my father, has my eyes and obviously gets his good looks from his mother. I guess he can keep his black curly hair too, after all it does give him a certain kind of boyish charm that always seems to draw attention. I think that will never change, no matter his age. There was always something about our family that drew in people, if we liked it or not.
He most definitely is my son in that he shares my legendary stubbornness, but he is far more patient than I am. Sometimes I feel like I am the only one who can make him angry, and if I am honest with myself, it is kind of amusing. It’s a different kind of anger than with his father. Funny again, I am honest with my son, but he, like Jake, still loves me even for all the darkness inside. I don’t say this like that, to exclude Luckas, it is just Luckas is different than them. Still, no one will ever know everything II have bared to Luckas, but Darren knows enough. He understands me better I think than most because he has the recipes to see behind my words and actions. He is the glue that keeps me together and I couldn’t be prouder. Darren is the product of my soul. He has darkness in him, much like anyone, but it is such a small part of him, that it tears at him like no other when it rears its ugly head. My son would rather laugh, smile, and love. That is just the type of man he is and I wish I could see him have a family of his very own to carry on the family name. Him and I are the last of our lineage, that I know of, in Valcrest.
So now you know a secret to what fuels the woman known as Essence V. Talon. Many faces, many voices, so even if one never knew my true features, they now know an intricate maze that is my soul, can be described by three men. Jacob, Luckas, and Darren. My spirit, my will, my strength…a swirling vortex of emotion that is me. There is no black and white; no good or bad. Only courage.