I had been waiting for this day for three years. Knowing it was coming and preparing for it in so many ways. And like all things that happen in my family, what could have been a trickle is actually a watershed. That psychic link we all share on some level pulls on us like the moon on the oceans and we respond.
Sister #2 was the first to voice it. Casually working into conversation that she enjoyed my light hearted romances best. These latest ones are too dark. She worries about me.
Sister #3 wanted to know about the book I planned to use her friend’s name in. I explained the premise and that it might be more violent that I had wanted. She wondered when I had become so violent.
Oddly, my mother was to suggest that I might need professional help with my issues. Now it may have been the lack of sleep she received from the nightmares induced by reading Bathed in Blood.
I said I hire editors and other professionals to get the book published.
I was hoping she’d throw her ice cream at me, as mine was almost gone. But no such luck.
I am aware of the darkness inside me. I’ve lived with myself for quite a while and I don’t keep much from myself. That my family wasn’t exactly aware of it was a bit of a surprise. I supposed it is because I’m quiet, keep to myself and don’t judge others actions (certain groups excluded). You know, the pat serial killer description.
No, I don’t have a basement and my house is on a concrete slab. Besides, why would I bury anyone in my yard when I know where lots of deep mine shafts are located. Er, I mean I haven’t killed anyone. Yeah, that’s it.
Perhaps, I’m just channeling a famous writer from the city I was born in—Edgar Allan Poe. His stuff gives me nightmares.
As for me, I’m okay with unleashing my violent side on the page. I just home Mrs. Hyde doesn’t ever come out to play in reality. That would be messed up:-)