Up till now I have never thought of documenting my immortal life. But the grief, the sorrow that comes with a tortured soul, forever tormented by the life I wish I had never led
And finally the guilt, of lives laid down to protect me and that is why people must know who I am, because I want people to look through the mask of happiness, the rock star attitude I wear every day and see the real me trapped in the labyrinth of my mind.
My name is Marceline Abadeer and this, is my story…
The day I opened my eyes, was the day all hell broke loose onto the world. For that was the day that war was declared and set into motion the downfall of humanity. That was the day that the lands of the east and the west, the north and the south grew tired of living and set about to destroy one another. The day I was born will always be a reminder of "The great mushroom war" the lives lost, families torn apart, and the horror unleashed upon the world in the form of the Lich.
I was born in a gypsy tram while my family fled the country along with millions of others. I remember my mother as she held me close to her chest promising me she would never let me go, never let anyone hurt me.
And in the dark embrace of night, I believed her.
Contrary to popular belief I was born a human with a loving family my name was not even Marceline it was Marcius Flinch. I even had a brother by the name of Flinn with a dad and mum.
Once my family had settled down in the countryside far away from the war in a small town that opened its home to us. And by the time I was three we had finished rebuilding our life in the small town. As a baby I never cried. My mom used to say it was because I was strong, but I knew better, it was because of my hatred for emotions, it was for the weak. That was what I thought until heard music.
It all started on a Friday night, snowy, starry just like the day before Christmas. I was walking home on this night after playing with the town's children- by this time I was seven years old- when I heard the ever so soft strumming of the bass. But oh it enveloped me filling me with a sense of life, warming me from my head to my toes. I had to find it, and before I knew what was happening I was running towards the music as if my life hung on every note, I ran and ran until the music filled the night sky and I found an old beggar lying in the snow playing his bass for the angles in heaven and me.
I don't know how long I sat there hanging on to every note of pure music, until I realized I was singing along to the sweet melody making up a rhyme that I did not know existed. And in the beautiful gift of darkness that hid our faces from one another, we warmed each other with our own music. It was beautiful, no words exchanged yet it seemed as if I had known him my whole life. Finally when he strummed his last note, he stood up, lay his instrument at my feet, then fell to the ground. Dead.
And that was how I got my first instrument; no matter how horrific it may sound I made a promise that night that I would play the instrument for him and him alone. Even though I did not know him, I wanted each note I played to scream redemption for his tortured soul.
Two months left to my tenth birthday and my life is close to perfect, I have become a mini celebrity in the town as a young musician, all I do every day is play with my big brother in the fields where I feel free. And all the horrors of the world that my eyes have witnessed is the death of my friend the beggar and the planes which fly over our house which reminded me of the war. Life is perfect. If only perfect things stayed that way…
It was the day before my birthday, I was walking down the street, staring into the shop windows and laughing as I played. When the sky darkened as if some one had blocked out the sun with dark grey clouds, then every dog on the street stopped and howled skyward in perfect unison as if announcing the arrival of something and finally every shop window on the street smashed one by one. I felt scared as I felt something coming. Suddenly everybody on the street stood up and walked away, vanishing into thin air. By this time I was petrified, standing all alone in deserted street, I had never felt so alone in my life. When a man walked out of the shadows as if he were made of them, at least I think he was a man, he had pale greenish skin and pointed ears, eyes that seemed to look into your soul. He was also wearing a black suit with a nametag that showed Hudson Abadeer.
I ran away as fast as I could.