Opening note: This idea was born in the dead of a stormy night, out on the tenth floor of a particularity comfortable apartment. It was a historical moment… ok; you know what, never mind. I'll just introduce you like a normal person. The idea for this fanfiction was born while I was reading a wonderful transformers story called Twisted – go check it out, it's fantastic! – and I didn't contemplate much before starting to write because I was just itching to get the idea out of the way, since even though I only bounced the idea around for like a day, I was eager to share it with the world. I can easily tell you that this is going to be long, and I can also promise you that this is not a smooth ride for anyone, especially a new OC on this site, Cassandra. You just wait and see what I have planned for the poor girl (this is the part where I grin evilly at the screen as if any of you can see me through it).
About the chapter itself, there is little I can say but that I promise that future chapters will be at least four thousand words long. I very much like long chapter, but this one is short because it is both the very long summary, and the introduction – a welcome-to-the-fic chapter, if you will. The story is right during the second movie, covering some missing sense, existing material, and a who new perspective of events through the eyes of a very secretive character, and it will continue far beyond that into what I can promise you is uncharted territory.
Honoraries and important notices: I'd like to personally thank my wonderful beta readers, Ninnasims3, and Khalthar, who are seriously the best beta readers in the world; thank you for helping me out with this, I really appreciate it.
Now to end my rant: if you recognize it, it isn't mine. I might say that a few more time, but I am likely to just forget, so if ever looking for a disclaimer, look here.
Things That We Are Not
Chapter 1/Untimely
Preface
There are many things in the world we would rather not do, that much is solid fact. And no matter how much we try to steer clear of such situations where something unpleasant is required to be done, each and every one of us eventually finds themselves in them. Take it from me; I should know.
Sometimes we have to lie in order to protect ourselves; be it a small lie or be it a grand lie, we do it out of instinct - mare self-preservation. This much is also fact. And despite what some people say, I honestly believe there isn't a single person on this planet who has never done it. It's just human nature. I have been brought up in such an environment where lying was always necessary. I've been taught when to speak and when to remain silent, what words to use and when to shut up, when to use little dirty secrets I uncover and when to let them go. But for the first time in all my life, I suddenly realized that sometimes you don't lie for yourself and your own gain―that sometimes lying is the only truth we have to give; I learned that sometime we have to look the people we love in the eye and lie in order to keep them safe — from the world, ourselves, and from the truth that we bury inside our heart. And once you fall down that hole, it's near impossible to crawl back out.
So what are we left with in the end? I really don't know yet. And I now believe I will never even find out. But of all the things that I have believed and not, thought of and never considered, one thing remains unchanging: when I want something, I take it.
To whomever it may concern: I am writing this for two reasons; two very specific, yet very vague reason. These reasons I am afraid I myself cannot comprehend, but that is beside the point. My prime purpose for this letter is to have some physical record of how my life had come to this; how it had turned into a battle of two minds within the same body, and why I cannot bring myself to let it go... why I cannot set myself free. The second is to let you know exactly why I've done the things I have. I cannot expect you to understand - I am afraid it is indeed too much to ask of you - but I do want to be heard; I wish for you, my dearest reader, to see my reasoning and my realize my convictions.
I fear it is not possible to translate every tear, every cry, every lash to the heart on a sheet of paper, and there is no hope for what has transpired here to be understood. Nevertheless, I write this with the trust that you, my dearest reader, will hear what I have to say and realize my side of the story. I truly did not mean for events to escalate to their heights and had I been given the chance to right my wrongs, I would have. That has no meaning now; not to me, and certainly not to her... not to you. I fear I cannot translate my feelings to paper, but perhaps there is still hope for them to be seen.
This story is not of love, or redemption; such meanings are too delicate, too neat for the hardships which it had gone through. Love, redemption... these feelings are easily understood, easily associated with, easily accepted. They are radiant streaks of yellow of the rising sun the in darkness of the dawning sky. They are lively and innocent; eternal and pure.
No, this story is not such. It is the tale hidden within a forgotten book, asleep in the depths of a locked library in a slumbering town of ghost; lost dreams and forbidden desires, fueled by their inner darkness. Its content a conflict for its lack of legible scrips and complete sum of pages.
This story is of vengeance, of obsession... of lust; it is of things lost, perhaps never to be recovered, never to be found, never to be saved. It is the story of my life, as I now can remember it, unreliable and threatening but all that I have left.
I have no recollection of the exact moment in which I had become the last stroke to the masterpiece that life had created; I have no memory of the specific event that had put me in the place that I am now. Therefore I cannot say how I had come to being a part of the game of loss and violence, lust and betrayal, vengeance and regret. But I did.
Me.
Cassandra to everyone; Cassie to one.
closing note: And there you have it: the prologue. Good? Bad? What do you think will happen next? Who is this mysterious girl? Do you want to know? What do you expect of her? Of the story? Of me? Let me know, because I love writing to bits and I really want to improve it? Please tell me how you feel about this; be the change!
TL
