Hello, here the speaker is Loey (a rusty writer), well ... I'm not good with introductions but I will try to be as consistent as possible...

For those who do not know, this fanfic is inspired by "Changeling (Siofra)" of CocoMingo but from the point of view of Isobel princess, as many of you know, Isobel is a princess full of problems and mentally fragile that gradually became dark and evil, but my purpose here is to show the outbursts and the sensitive side of this shadowy figure that nothing else is a lonely teenage girl and needy whose sole confidant was an old black book that served as a kind of diary

Ah! just one more thing before we start the "story", remember, Isobel or any character mentioned here not belong to me, I took only borrowed, and also ... I will have the consider to not show all ... after all... some things here are too personal and I do not want to be killed by Isobel to show your secret diary

Introduction

Tell Tale heart

"I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad?"

Often our darkest secrets are revealed by a organ that many have and few appreciate, it is responsible for their ability to have feelings and spread blood in his veins as well as his brain, it has the function to store memories and many things written or unwritten

But what both have in common? both are traitors organs

And they are infidels in their own way, the heart weakens and leaves you vulnerable to the worst of feelings...the love

However the brain sells you for the reason in order to then receive the insanity instead of reason

But neither for this reason treat them badly, thanks to them you are a human and what is more human than the imperfection?

Even I not being fully human, I also have imperfections and just like humans, I also saw the darkness and believe me, she was the most loyal friend I've ever had in this life

She showed me many things, both in heaven and in hell, so how can I be mad?

...

Alone

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone
Then in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

Since my childhood years, I knew I went never the same as others and for this reason, I have not had friends besides my sister who unlike me, was blessed by his living and warrior personality and because of this she got thousands of stupid fans by our village, a fact quite enough stupid if you ask me

Perhaps because I was a lonely and responsible girl, I became a favorite of my mother and I say that she was a pleasant companion and nothing stupid

But the fate chose a different path for me, all the things I felt, all I knew was transformed into affixed by destination and I ended up losing everything ...

But as a consolation prize, I learned a valuable lesson:

"Everyone walks away. No matter who they are, they will leave you, and in the end, the only person you have is yourself . You were resigned to the fact you were going to live out the rest of your days alone. You didn't need anyone. You didn't want anyone. You could manage, if this was your life, you could cope with that. You could only rely on yourself, so really, this was the best outcome for all. No one else would get hurt, and you wouldn't get hurt"

I hope so as I'm trusting in the dark, I can trust you also

Signed:

Your Bel

Tell Tale Heart

Alone

by Edgar Allan Poe

Somber Quotes by CorvusCorvidae

So what do you think? good enough to continue? Isobel is very OC? comment! give your opinions and say what I can improve, after all, a real writer is one who is ready for reviews