Not A Chapter

Not A Chapter

For those of you who have read my fan fic, I thank you for that. I hope my mediocre style was enough to provide you with some degree of entertainment. Any of you who have followed my fan fic may have noticed that I haven't updated since early June. There is a reason for that. After writing for some time and watching the story fade into obscurity, my interest in writing the story began to wane. I decided that there was no point in writing the story if there was a mutual lack of interest between the writer and the reader. I figured on updating the story, but life interfered. I had the story planned out, but will it even matter? I still have some idea of what I would want to write, but as of now, writing is one of the last things I feel like doing with my spare time. That which was once a creative outlet and a source of inspiration to me has lost its significance. It is time to move on, at least for a while. This is just a notice for any of you who may have been following the story. It was not my intention to leave you hanging. I'm uncertain whether there will be another actual update. It remains a possibility, if I can somehow rekindle the flames of my former passion. Just so I'm not necessarily breaking any rules, I have decided I will include some AA related content in this update in a sort of spoof ending. In the event that I do update this story, I will delete this chapter, as it would coincide with the content of the story.

"I can't believe you've fallen this far, Kristoph."

I glared at Wright. Hours away from my execution, he was the last person I had wanted to see. I had longed for someone who had actually cared about me to come…to make the last hours of my worthless existence memorable. I heard the sound of footsteps, and for a second, I half-expected to see my mother, my wonderful mother, standing in front of me. I half-expected to see her risen from the dead, to give me comfort and hope for one last time in my life.

Instead, Wright was standing before me, gloating. Wright was a weak man, as worthless and pathetic as I was in his own right. While he may have projected a chivalrous façade to the world at large, I knew he was vindictive and petty to the last degree. He was the type of person who would attend my funeral, just to make sure I was dead.

Wright opened his mouth to speak. "Sometimes the memories of the past leave an imprint on your soul that never quite fades away."

I gasped. 'The memories of the past…' In an instant, the memories of my life were overturned. Those haunting recollections of my drunken father, my struggle in Germany, my career as a successful defense attorney…none of that was real anymore. In a flash of realization, the false past was swept away by blinding truth.

"I'm not who you think I am, Wright," I said.

"Oh, really?" Wright demanded haughtily. "And your evidence for that statement is…?"

I replied in a hollow voice, "Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth chooses death for the first and final time."