Darkness surrounded me almost my entire life. It fed off of my fear, instigated my hatred, but the worst of all ... Darkness is a part of me I could never remove. It aids me in some ways, but hinders me in most. I'm not saying that it's an ability or something I could rely on. I'm not gifted enough to have such an ability. Quite the opposite. The earliest memory I had of darkness came in an odd way.
The darkness enveloped me, shrouded me. My eyes tried to adjust ever since I woke up here, but still all I could see was the pitch black that consumed me. That fact was the one thing that scared me. I've lived my entire life alon, which helped me outgrow any fears I might have had. But the fact that this Darkness was unnatural scared me.
Perhaps I should start at the beginning. My name is Damien Brangwen Thorne, and I assure you that I've heard the jokes before. Which just so happens to be why I rarely tell my middle name to anyone. Perhaps it was a cruel joke on my parents' part. Or maybe, it was an apt name. My mother was a seer, or rather she could see the future, though I say that in the lightest of terms. She was very limited in I, he, she, we, they."what her seer abilities could do, but perhaps she saw some destiny that awaited me. You see, my mom believed that the meaning of a name mattered more than whether or not the name /Sounded/ good. Damien means 'to tame', Brangwen means 'Dark' or 'Darkness', while Thorne means exactly that 'thorn'. So my name, in a sentence, means 'to tame the thorns of Darkness.'
But I digress. I was surrounded in a world of darkness, with nothing but the clothes on my back. I don't know how long I stood there, for it seemed like an eternity, before something happened. A pinprick of light appeared through the darkness. "Now, you're not better than him" A faint, soft voice cut through the silence, a tinge of sadness hanging on to the words. Following the voice, the light began to swell, doubling, tripling in size, until there was a large, gaping wall of blinding light in front of me. A rougher voice called out through the light. It was louder than the other voice, so I could only assume that it was closer. "Wait, I'm sorry," Sorry? Sorry for what? What was going on, and why could I hear the voices anyway? "And thanks ... for bringing me back." The light began to stretch out reaching for the farthest points within the darkness until all there was left, was blinding light.
For ages I stood there, expecting to hear the voices again, but none came. I was bewildered, but with the light surrounding me, I was no longer afraid. It was as if the light was seeping through my pores, calming my nerves. Within the light, I waited, until something entirely unexpected happened.
The room began shifting, warping. The void that was light began to take shape, until it was a rectangular box made of light. Strange shapes began to appear in the box in familiar patterns. For nearly a minute the box retained these shapes, until color drenched the room. The walls of light slowly bled into a light aquamarine. The strange shapes began to form into materials. Wood, leather, cloth, all of these formed and twisted until they became a combination of furniture.
Over all, the room was particularly bland for my tastes. A love seat was angled in the corner of the south and eastern walls. A bookshelf with two chairs, both facing a table with an oddly designed chess set, sat against the northern wall. And, in the center lay a leather couch. I staggered back in shock at both the familiarity of the room, and the sudden appearance of the furnishings. I slammed backward into the table, or rather, through it. An audible gasp escaped my lips as I saw half the table protruding from my stomach. It only then dawned on me that I wasn't tangible in this vision of sorts. By the time I heard the approaching voices it was already too late. "Look at them, twins." The first voice cooed. The voice had an air to it that could soothe the soul.
"I still say we dump the first one. I won't tolerate a Squib." The second voice was harshly gruff. There was something about him that I didn't like, I just couldn't place it.
"Kenneth, the boy is not a Squib." A mirthless laugh found its way out past my lips. So the man shared his name with my father. They would certainly get along. Even if I had no idea what a squib was.
"He might as well be. The healer told us all we needed to know, Alona." This sounded too close for comfort. Was I seeing my parents here?
The figures that the voices belonged to finally entered the room. I instinctively hid behind the leather couch, hoping they wouldn't see me, before I finally remembered that this was just a vision of some kind. While I was only three when I had last seen my parents, a faint image had etched itself inside my mind. The man had shortly cut hair, with a goatee. His blue eyes seemed to pierce the air as if he was always glaring. He wore dark red robes which offset the woman's blue robes. Her hair was long, draped behind her head stopping around the middle of her back. Her grey eyes, though intimidating at first, wormed its way into your soul and seemed to be saying that everything would be alright. Despite the minor differences in my memory, these people were my parents.
"While Damien may not be as magically talented as Lucedio-" Magic? The mere word puzzled me more than the vision. There was no such thing as magic as far as I know.
"Lucedio is gifted. Damien is a near squib." Kenneth interrupted.
"He can still go to Hogwarts. While it may be more difficult-" What the hell is Hogwarts? It sounds like a rare disease.
"I'm not paying for that boy to go to Hogwarts for an education he doesn't need! He's contaminating our family with his filth!"
The smack that followed resounded through the air as I couldn't help, but gape in shock. My mother had stood up for me?
"He is your son!"
"Not for much longer." Kenneth sneered darkly.
Before the rest of the scene could play out, the room collapsed around me. It began to feel as if I was being squeezed through a small tube to who knows where, before I lost myself to the darkness again.
