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Dessa Chambers's Blog Entry


Blog Entry
Saturday, Apr 14, 2012
Moving On {Part 1 of 2}

    To be kicked when you’re down is the worst pain she had known. Torture was physically and emotionally draining, bu it had made her stronger. Her life with William had built her defense and made her a strong witch. But it had been a false sense of independence and strength. Dessa wasn’t strong because she had taught herself how to manage her life. She had been strong because she had been connected to William by a bond that even she couldn’t have begun to understand. It was as though she had been sired, only without the turning.

    When William was killed, Dessa felt as though a part of her soul had been torn from her being. She could feel again and all she felt was pain. Pain from years of bottled emotions. The pain of not having a mother, the pain of being taken away from her father…the list went on and on. William was the reason for her pain, but he had also been the one who held her together. Now that he was gone, Dessa felt as though she were falling apart. Every part of her body, mind, soul, and heart was breaking and no matter what she did, she couldn’t pull herself together.

    It took a toll on her duties, though she threw herself into her training. War was on the horizon and Dessa had to be prepared. She believed all had been well. Nothing could possibly go wrong; the worst had already happened. Of course, life took that as a challenge. Perhaps it was karma, or perhaps it had just been a couple of people who couldn’t handle the war. It had been no secret where the war had started and she knew she’d be a target—would always be a target in her position—but she had futilely believed that if someone were to attempt to kill her, they would have the balls to own up to it.

    Dessa had been training when the attack happened. She was out for a final jog, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the night after spending a few hours in the dungeon helping young ones get out. She didn’t have the chance to defend herself as the attacked her from behind. They didn’t stop until her heart came to a faltering stop. Their mission had been completed. They couldn’t get to Mackenzie, so Dessa was the next best thing. At least, she assumed that was the petty reason for her demise.

    She didn’t see the light, nor did her life flash before her eyes as she died. She did, however, hear a voice. A voice she had never heard before, but somehow knew it was her mother. Her mother had come to save her. “It’s not your time, sweetheart. Go back. Your family needs you. You are strong on your own. The past doesn’t matter. All that matters is what you do now. Go back to your family. Grow strong once more. I will always watch over you…” As the voice faded, Dessa woke. She lay in a pool of her own blood, clothes completely soiled, but alive. Her “killer” was long gone.

    Rid of her key to the Coven and most of her money, she found the cheapest motel nearby, using her powers (though they were weak) to prevent the clerk from noticing her appearance. Once inside her room, she headed right for the shower and turned it on. Carefully, she peeled out of her clothing. Every inch of her body was sore. In the shower, she finally took a moment to think everything over. Thoughts flew to who could have done this to her. Pheenyx…Not likely. Not after the chewing out Dessa had received. What went for one would surely go for the other. Someone she had pissed off in the coven? She was harsh at times, but two were dead. Jasper…he wouldn’t go against Mack, despite what Dessa had done to Sarah—she hoped. But deep down, she had a pretty good idea of who the culprits were. It would just be a matter of proof.

    Eventually, her thoughts drifted to her mother and how she’d saved Dessa. She always longed to know her mother, always wished she could have that female influence in her life. And sometimes, felt as though she was alone whenever she need a mother figure the most. She should have know that, in a world of magic, her mother was always there in some way. “Thank you…Mom.” she finally whispered. It may have been hard, losing William and then her life, only to be resurrected when the pain could have been gone forever, but she was glad. No matter what she though, she was strong and death was a weakness. She would prevail through this like everything else in her life. No one could take away her strength. She would rise above and prove to them—and herself—the true meaning of picking yourself back up.

    I am strong and I won’t let anyone stand in my way.

Posted at 07:36 pm
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