A/N: Well, here comes another story. In the months when I seemed to be inactive, I've been working on two stories, figuring out the plots of everything. I'm glad to say I've got this planned from beginning to end, mainly because this is based on my favourite book: Daughter of the Forest. Don't start shouting at me bout copyrights when the beginning starts to get too famaliar, because I'm going to change the storyline and move it in a very different direction. Just a note for all you guys to keep in minf. Alrite, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me, based on Daughter of the Forest.

Chapter 1

My Tale

For you,

I have endured much, these years. I have always liked to tell stories, telling and continuing the tales of time. The grandest, the ones told most, the ones most enjoyed, are always begged for, and I take pleasure in telling. Then there are some, little tales, forgotten tales, tales so worn with love and time and tears that it seems every telling strips part of it away… I like to think mine is like that.

My tale, the tale of the unbearable cruelty and hurt I had to go through, is like that. I have not told any, except the one closest to me, and only once. I'm not selfish, but far from selfless. When I think of my tale, the one true thing that will forever make me remember and cry, I want to keep it inside me, so that it's all mine.

But I understand the importance of passing things on, and as a teller of tales, it is only inevitable that I tell my story, so that it will be remembered as well.

When I was young, I surrounded myself in stories. They were my life. I couldn't live without them. They led me to believe, to trust and be happy. I think it's the one true gift mother gave me when she passed away. I hate to share this with everybody, but it is time, and it is time I let go.

My daughter and son asked me for my tale before, but I never told. I didn't want to burden them, or make them think I was a hero, for I was not then and stillnot so now. The reason was that by telling, I would once more experience the grief and feelings I experienced before, and that's not something I would ever want to go through again.

In retaliation, they asked their uncles and father; and males, being males, told my story. I wasn't mad, to be sure, for they had a big part in it too. I think after my children knew, they looked at my in a new light, and I'm not sure if I am even close to their expectations.

My husband, always supporting, told me to let go, but I wouldn't. We've had our disagreements and such, but I just can't. I want to keep it forever mine.

In the end, family prevailed, but only after countless arguments and persuasion. Of course I didn't give up without a fight, so instead of telling, which would have definitely spurred an emotional breakdown, I decided I would write it. In this case, whoever would like to know my story can read through these pages without asking me. And, I would not have to repeat my tale to every individual who would like to know.

Don't mind if my writing seems a little dusty. Digging up things that happened long ago and once sparked such feelings of sadness, remorse and grief is hard. Then, imagine having to channel all those feelings into simple words, words that are never enough to encompass the extent of their value, it bothers me that I cannot explain such things.

When I tell stories, I don't just close my eyes and repeat the same things over and over with little emotion. I take the story and make it a part of me, so that, to see and to hear me is to make up for the lack of description in my words. Words on a piece of paper are not efficient in giving such emotion I hold. So, be patient, as I try and describe to you my tale, without the eyes and ears which would have made this tale so much truer.

I would like you to know, whoever you are, that this tale is real and it happened to me in exactly the way I will describe it. I'm sorry if I cannot remember individual phrases and words, but I'll try my best, for some scenes flash over and over in my mind, and there is no way possibly forget them…even when I want to.

Sometimes you may want to laugh at my stupidity, or to even hit me for my mistakes. But let me tell you, I am only human and I make mistakes, no matter what some may praise of me.

Also, before I start, I want you to respect. I want you to respect the things I tell you and imagine them happening to you before you mock or criticize me. I have not told my husband some details I shall list in here, for they are private things only a woman should know. However, I have promised to be truthful and not alter any part, even though I do wish to do so many times.

And with these messages and warnings, I tell you to flip the page. In a last note, this is a tale, a tale spun from the threads of my life. I have sacrificed much for the completion of this tale, and I would regret it much if it were all for nothing. So, before everything else, I tell you to enjoy this tale.

Endless Love,

Kagome

Well, we'll get to the story part in the next chapter... click next... but review first!