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I wrote this last year but never posted it here. But now seems like a good time to do it. Let me know what you think.


Eve. It's the Hebrew word for life. My parents couldn't have picked a worse name for me. Because I, well, I am death.

I started early, the minute I was born actually. My mother died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised by my father, but he couldn't deal. He killed himself just three months after I was born. So I was sent to live with my grandparents and everything was better. For a while.

Then one day everything changed. I was only eight at the time. Grandma and I were going to go shopping, we were in the car ready to go when I realized I'd forgotten my beloved Binky, the stuffed rabbit that my mother had bought me before I was born. So I just had to go and get him. Gran stayed in the car while I went inside to get him. When I got back the car was on fire, Gran trapped inside. To this day I still don't know how it happened. I remember standing there, watching her try to escape, hearing her screams and doing nothing to help her. Instead I stood entranced by the flames as they engulfed the car. At that point in my life it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Every night for the next two months I'd dream about that day, but I didn't hate the dreams like I should've, I loved them. To be able to see such a beautiful sight night after night was wonderful. Then the dreams stopped. I missed them so much, I just wanted to see it again.

So I stole the matches from the kitchen and waited until granddad had gone out to work in the garden. Making sure that I had my Binky tucked safely under my arm, I set the house alight. He wasn't meant to be in there. I didn't know. That was the day my grandfather died.

After that I was bounced around from foster home to foster home. Then when I was thirteen I went to go and live with Greg and Cindy Connors. I hated them so much. They took my Binky away, they said that I was too old for stuffed toys and Greg had taken him, thrown him on the barbeque and set him on fire as Cindy held me back making me watch as the only thing that had ever made me happy burned to a crisp. They said it was for my own good.

The girl next door was called Rebecca Brinkley. She was the first to tell me that I was cursed. I thought that she was my friend, so I told her about what I had done, I thought that she'd understand. But she didn't, she called me a freak and spread what I had said all around the school. She betrayed me, she hurt me. My only real friend was Rebecca's pet rabbit, Spot. He always used to come into our backyard and I'd feed him, play with him. I took better care of him than Rebecca ever did. I loved that rabbit.

One day, I came home from school crying. Rebecca and her friends had decided to throw bits of paper at me during Maths class and laughed when they got stuck in my curly hair. I lay on the grass, sobbing, and Spot had come up to me and lay his head on my arm. Made me smile through my tears. I gathered him up and hugged him close, crying into his soft white fur, just like I used to do with my Binky. I guess I must have squeezed him too tight because he bit me. Hard. Hard enough to make me bleed.

I don't know why I did it but I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and threw him on the barbeque, took the matches and set him on fire. Just like Greg had done to Binky. And I cried. Because this time the fire wasn't beautiful, it stunk and Spot was...he made so much noise that they must have heard him next door because the next thing I knew I was being tackled to the ground and the fire was being doused by the garden hose.

I was sent to juvenile detention for half a year after that and in those six months I learned more than in the previous thirteen years of my life.

I realized that anyone I let myself get close to ended up dead and I decided to never love anyone or anything again.

The next ten years passed without incident, till I met Sarah. We just clicked. I could tell her anything and she would understand. I told her how I was cursed and she told me that it was silly to think that and that I could love anyone I wanted.

So I let myself love her and she loved me in return. We were going to be together. For once in my life I finally felt like everything was going to be okay. So I helped her escape and she promised that once she got her revenge, she'd come back for me and we'd run away together. But she never came back.

That's when I decided to stop fighting it and embrace my destiny. My destiny was death, there was no more denying it.

I killed Zoe McCallister, took her identity, played the part. Pretended to be the girl I always wished I could be. I did everything I could to make that town pay.

And Kim, poor clueless Kim, always having to play the hero. He played right into my hands. Against my better judgment, I did end up caring about him. I didn't love him, but that was probably for the best. But he betrayed me and so he had to pay.

I couldn't believe how stupid I was to leave Sarah's ring behind. The one thing I had left of my Sarah. If hadn't have been so careless I wouldn't have been in that mess. Trapped in that room by Sally Fletcher of all people, beating against the door with a chair. Just waiting for the lock to give way.

The blast that threw me back into the room, slamming me against the wall, was so pretty that I could barely feel the burns it left on my arms and stomach. I waited till I got my breath back before I ran out into the flames. I found the opening Sally had used to escape the first time and managed to drag myself out of the burning building.

After I got away, I laid on the grass, coughing from all the smoke I'd inhaled, the burns stinging my skin and I remembered what Sarah always used to say "The phoenix will rise from the ashes." and I knew it was true, after all my Sarah would never lie.

I will be back and Summer Bay will pay.



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