My name was Elizabeth Marney, and I don't think my parents ever loved me.
Oh, they didn't physically abuse or neglect me, but I think they loved the idea of a perfect, pretty daughter more than they ever loved me. I didn't see this for the longest time, and simply tried to live up to their ridiculously high expectations, blaming myself when they turned cold whenever I didn't manage to meet those goals.
Even after this realization, I just tried so very hard to be the daughter they wanted, try to get their acceptance, but it wasn't until my 21st birthday that I couldn't handle it anymore and stopped my futile attempts.
Stopped any attempts actually.
It was the day I killed myself.
One might wonder why I didn't just leave my past behind me, and live for myself... But... No, I guess it doesn't matter whether I tell you or not, the reason for my decision.
All my life had been dedicated to that one simple goal. Everything I could have ever grown to like, I had swept aside, in an attempt to make them love me.
All that could be seen about me, all I was, all I had grown to be, was fake. And at that moment I hated them, hated myself, hated everything. I cursed both heaven and earth, loathing everything, and pretty much destroyed my new home in my rage.
It wasn't my sadness, but this anger that broke me. it was the first genuine thing I let myself express, and it was true all-encompassing hatred. That was all I was, and in my drunken state, I believed it was all I ever could be. I had never known love after all. Was I even human, or was I a monster wearing the skin of one?
There was nothing innocent about me, nothing good, nothing even like-able. There was nothing pure about me, except for these malevolent feelings welling up inside of me, evil.
I believed ridding the world of my presence would do everyone a favour.
And, as you can already guess, I went through with it.
I had expected to descend right into hell upon my death, but instead I was given a new chance. I was reborn to a couple of farmers, and despite their rough exterior, I wanted could tell they loved me, wanted to believe so full-heartedly, and I did.
Even though this seemed to be a medieval society, even though the life of a serf was far from easy, I felt alive like I had never before. I thanked the heavens for it, believing myself to be forgiven for the sin of my former existence.
Until the day everything came crashing down.
It was winter, and a few others and me had been playing tag near the road in the forest that bordered our village in the west. I burst unto the road just a carriage was coming up. I had just enough time to raise my arms... And a crashing noise could be heard. For a moment I believed myself to have an out of body experience, and opened my eyes.
I was unscathed though. The carriage? Not so much. Some force seemed to have flung it away in the opposite direction. My numb mind had yet to catch up to my continued survival when a fearful noise broke the silence. I dully looked to the side, to meet the eyes of the children I had been playing with mere seconds before.
"W...Witch!"
Ah... It seemed I had been mistaken...
Because undoubtedly, I had been touched by the devil after all...
Deep within me, something stirred awake.
Once more, I despaired, and once more, the loathing ignited in me. Burning. Burning away at my sanity.
When had I forgotten the truth, my true form?
After all this time, despite the embrace of death and the markings of a new life...
I was still a monster.
