Prologue

In Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, he considers whether a man should love himself most, or if it is better to love others.

Of course, our society attempts to embrace both. People dote upon the Good Samaritan and sigh for those destined to be alone forever. Everywhere we look, we hear the message of self love and its importance.

So am I really so different than you? Am I really such a monster? Please understand, the only difference between you and I is this: I chose myself.

People like to say there are only two emotions, love and fear. Mine just happened to meet in the same place.

I think it started with the raven. I was just a young boy, walking home from the one-room schoolhouse just a mile down the road from my home. We lived in a small village, the name of which was forgotten long ago. If you were to stand now where I stood that day you might see flourishing buildings, advertisements, streets throbbing with people, glistening buildings groping the clouds in a smug fashion. A city built from my sanity’s ashes.

Nothing special ever occurred in this mundane village. I was the youngest of four siblings, with middle class parents who worked hard for everything we needed. I forgot their names, too.

You might think forgetting is heartless, but sometimes it’s just what you have to do to survive. 

At this point in my life, all the days blur together in a never-ending symphony of color and pain, but I can remember this day as clearly as if I was watching it on a bright screen. The sun was shining down on my neck as I watched my feet kick rocks across the dusty road. My wants were simple at that time. I wanted my ball. I wanted some milk. I wanted a hug from my mother. I wanted the sun to stop being so blazing hot. I was so entrenched in my thoughts, I almost stepped on it. I couldn’t make out what the wet ball of black fluff was at my feet, so I crouched down closer to look. 

It was a raven. A young raven. A young, beautiful raven. A young, beautiful, dead raven.

You might be thinking that there is nothing so extraordinary in that encounter. Death is everywhere. We see it all the time. 

Maybe that’s so, and my brain is just wired different. But in that moment, I was the raven. Looking down on the delicate, mangled neck, the glazed over eyes and broken beak, all I saw on the ground was myself. That would be me. One day. Inevitably. 

That moment stayed with me forever. It ingrained a fear that would be part of me for the rest of my life. Where you see this as irrational, I see this as key to survival. 

This is why I do it. I’m not a psychopathic murderer. I’m not heartless. I simply stick to my one objective. I get the job done. Then it’s over.

It’s purely survival. I just chose me.

And I plan to keep choosing it.

Author's Note

This is the prologue to my book! Please let me know what you think, what could be improved, if you enjoyed it or not, if you think it has potential! I will be posting my next chapter soon!

Reviews

[Betty Hermelee]

I like your writing style, especially because it's in the 1st person, my favorite. You use excellent imagery, the Raven to represent your fear. Your prologue also brings a certain amount of suspense to the eventual story. It's easy to read (not convoluted) and gets the reader off to a good start. Kudos to you!!!!
Fondly, Betty
PS I'm a poet, so I hope my critique is helpful.

[emacmorgan]

Thank you so much! I hope you continue to enjoy it :) Your critique is very helpful!

[Betty Hermelee]

Thank you, I look forward to reading your work.
Fondly, Betty

[barleygirl]

I just wrote a book where I attempted to fuse my poetry with my prose & this (your intro) is a much stronger example than I was able to achieve (altho I'm happy with my poetry-prose efforts). I think the first two short paragraphs are too cerebral & not attention grabbing. This would be stronger, starting with shouted questioning of 3rd paragraph. Even tho I love your fusing of poetry & prose, I also wonder if such an abstract storyline could sustain chapters & chapters of interest (if you continue in this vein). But maybe this goes more in a storytelling direction in subsequent chapters, so we'll see how it goes from here (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

This is killer writing:
"My wants were simple at that time. I wanted my ball. I wanted some milk. I wanted a hug from my mother. I wanted the sun to stop being so blazing hot. I was so entrenched in my thoughts, I almost stepped on it. I couldn’t make out what the wet ball of black fluff was at my feet, so I crouched down closer to look." --- the short declarations really add power to an emotional outpouring!

[emacmorgan]

Thank you so much! I will keep these things in mind!

[barleygirl]

I didn't realize I'd already read & reviewed this, so I'm going to add an observation I just got, this time around . . . I would start this at this point:
"I think it started with the raven . . . "

All that comes before is mental masturbation which may mean something to you, but it sounds philosophical jibberish to me. Especially the first line. You gotta seize people with the first few lines & I guarantee you, nobody wants to read a book that starts like this: "In Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, he considers whether a blah blah blah . . ."

[JamesTleBourn]

Woah... This sounds like a really interest idea. Nice raven symbolism by the way. I'm curious about how this book turns out

[emacmorgan]

Thank you so much!