Thanks a bunch for the reviews! Just to clarify a few things for y'all, in this case, by "journal entry" I mean "dark musings in a backwater bar". Sorry for the confusion, I'm not sure I understand me sometimes. Also, sorry about the spelling mistakes; until recently I refused to write anything but school stuff on MS word (I HATE the autocheck function and am far too lazy to turn it off. See? It's doing it again! Autocheck IS a word, you stupid machine!!!), but I still tend to make up words that I've sworn I've heard somewhere before which doesn't really work either.
Anyway, obviously the story has changed (you can read the summary, I'm not repeating it). Hope y'all approve!
Neffy
"Chosen One, My Ass"
Is this what it's come to? At the end of the day, I can't even say for sure who I am.
For a minute I wanted to believe that I wasn't pretending; I wanted that absolute certainty that Avineri had when he saw me. For a moment, I had my father back. Who knows, maybe I am Mala. With what we've been through lately, I open to almost anything.
But when I look in the mirror, all I see is Beka Valentine. The same person I've seen for the last couple of decades. Do people really change when they find out their childhood might have been a lie? That they might be someone else?
What would have happened to little Mala-Propina if she hadn't disappeared? Would she have grown up in fear of the outsiders that she had never before encountered? Married, loved, had children, died in that same little place? Would she have been content there? Or would she have wanted to know about those people and places her entire culture feared? Would she have asked Avineri about them, wanted to go and visit them?
I would never have been able to live in a place like that, especially as a child. I couldn't keep my hands out of anything growing up. And my father never tried to discourage. Would Avineri have? Would he have taught her tact and restraint? Those were lessons Dad didn't know himself. Besides, I've survived on what resulted in their absence. Balls and sass, as Dad used to tell me and Rafe, that and having lots of money. You didn't even have to have that many brains if you had those. That was how you survived in the Valentine universe: balls, sass and cash.
I never would have thought the key to saving this entire system would fall in the hands of a Valentine. Yet here I am. And all I can say to it boils down to four simple words:
Chosen One, my ass.