Secrets are like vampires. They captivate us with their forbidden mystery and promises of excitement. Yet once inside us, they become toxic, compelling us to infect others, who in turn want nothing more than to be bitten. It's a vicious cycle that ensures nothing remains secret forever.
The only way to protect yourself from their destructive energies is to simply turn the other way when offered one. To resist the lure of the forbidden fruit. But sometimes, something just happens to you - or you just happen to witness something - that forces one upon you, like an uninvited guest that arrives without warning, and leaves only under great duress.
Unfortunately, I have been burdened by such a secret for over 20 years. You see, my childhood was stolen from me in broad daylight, right under my nose, by a cunning thief who dazzled me with his charms, only to run away with my innocence forever.
It was the perfect crime, and at the time I was the perfect victim. But thankfully, I was able to pick up the pieces of my life and gradually go on to live quite normally. In fact, I even forgot all about my childhood trauma.
Or so I thought. Because it was during a recent chance encounter with my old teenage diary that I realized my demons had never truly left me. They had only been lurking in the shadows all along as I busied myself with other things. I suppose I learned the hard way that a secret kept in darkness only grows in potency.
But there is one way to diffuse a secret. To take away all of its power. And that is to make it public. For no vampire can survive in the cold light of day. So it is at the behest of my wonderfully supportive husband that I have decided to lay bare the ghosts of my childhood in this book, in the hope that in doing so, I'll finally be able to lay them to rest forever. It's been a long, hard journey for me to get to this point. And I thank you, dear listener, for playing your part in my recovery.
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Cried my eyes out
- Amanda P. Russell