mber
ades and now I find myself in present day, the 2020's. I keep this journal wherever I go to record my thoughts and feelings, my memories, so that my mind can let go of the mundane yet never lose a
and always known I was different. I was born with a knowledge she never
as druids. Little is known about them, where they came from, or to why he chose to bear a child with a mortal
alo
e druids, I find nothing but fakes and mimics. People who want to be what I am, who convince themselves they have gifts and powers
ess it in any meaningful way. Very few true witches of great power remain. So I have been forced t
movies about dark monsters you think stemmed from bedtime stories and folklore. I know better, I can see all that would rip your little world apart, yet I am untouchable
of another planet, who stopped by to grace us with knowledge and ideology, but I find nothing to back this up. My powers seem to follow witchcraft i
elf back here as though being tugged by an unseen force of destiny. My gut tells me that somehow, the something I have been looking for all this time is manifesting in the warmer climates and southern accents a
nt's of olde; I find it amusing to see the similarity in the faces that greet me now. How their genetics pass down reused features and colouring as though givin
this eternal life on a lost path. I know I never looked much like my mother or other clan membe
destined to always be. I look young, yet old enough to be a mother. I guess you humans would put me at thirty or thereabouts. I'm tall and slender and have dark ha
ngs. Maybe I could have changed how I look if I was so inclined, but maybe I am meant to stay invisible and unmemorable as the druids faces seem to hav
exuality, if only they had the sense to take it as a warning
ke life away if I see fit and I have a heart that can do either without remorse. I have no idea which path they w
Emotions are not my strong point and up until now I have been happy with my solitary lifestyle. T
in my past who taught me a lot about love and pain and loss. Those who
soon withers and dies over the years and I am left alone once more. My last lover died some 30 years ago, and I have grown bored
r his passing. I know I'm cold and unlikeable but that's what fate gave me. I can't push myself to have emoti
s never seems to touch me. Maybe this is how I am meant to be for when my purpose reveals itself maybe
y so when the hard decision hits,