The World Will Never Be Quiet

by A.SnowF

[Dear V, K & S. I know you did not want this to be published, but it is great time everyone know what happened to C.D and L.S - for the sake of their name. For my own sake. They deserve this much, and VFD deserves that final blow. Forgive me if you can. Forgive B.S too. We want to make things right for all those that VFD destroyed. And destroy it. At last.]

1. Introductory Note

Disclaimer & spoilers : This memoir describes events that happened just after the first memoir written by C.D, and long after L.S books. The reader shall be advised not to read it, of course. If they really desire to engage in such a sorry experience, then they shall be advised to read C.D's first memoir first.

Rating : T, I know C.D wouldn't have wanted some innocent eyes to read this.

A/N : Though C.D didn't leave any indication as to what she wanted to make of this memoir, the reader shall know that the same warnings as the one that applied to her first memoir still apply here: English is not the editor's mother language, so she may or may not have done spelling/grammar/conjugation/syntax mistakes.

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I didn't think I would have to write again. I didn't think I would have a reason to do it – I didn't think I would owe anything of the sort to anyone else after what happened with the sugar bowl. I didn't think I would do anything comparable to what I did back in the High Court again.

But I did. This is no longer about you Lemony – but you know that, don't you? There's someone else now, someone new. She's with you as I write these lines. I hope she is, anyway, or else something is going on and you didn't find useful to tell me.

It is still a bit about you, though. It always was since the beginning. If Olaf knew how to read, it would also be about him. And Jacques, always Jacques. You three shaped me in your own way, and it's because and thanks to you that I did what I did. But you're all collateral damages – this time, I don't really write for myself or for getting me out of jail. I write for her. For her to know who I am, who we are. Maybe she'll forgive us, if we have to vanish before we have the time to tell her everything.

So if you ever read these lines, Ellis, know that they're for you. Know that everything, everything I did was for you as soon as you broke into my life. Our lives. You're everything I wish I was, you have everything I wish I had. For now, at least.

You will probably discover things about me in these pages – you'll see that I am not perfect. Ask the Baudelaire for the first part of this tale, if you want to understand what brought me here, what happened to me and where you come from. I hope you'll forgive me – I hope you're strong enough to understand me.

Mind the eye, Ellis. Mind the Volunteers, the Felony of this world and any suspicious Deflagration.

Or don't, and follow my dreadful path.