Chapter 1: Separate Lives (draft)

If I were to tell my story, I'd say I lived through the dark times. I lived alongside titans: politicians, prominent families, the rich and the famous. I saw myself as an outcast, the odd thing. No, I am not deformed, or with sickness; I was just... different.

They had their money, the power, the strong connections. They had everything at their fingertips. They could kill a man with what they have, they just have to say a name. Then henchmen would have their dirty work done.

"It's all been taken care of."

"He's been disposed of."

Killer. Murderer. Assassin. These are some of what my "friends" call me. Funny, I cannot really call my companions "friends", since we all live by the same code. Everybody IS the enemy. We always have to watch our back, even if we know the person behind us.

Yes, I have killed people. I have destroyed lives. I have taken the lives of brothers, fathers, husbands. I never hesitated, I have a job to do. Through the years, what I do for a living hardened my heart, and devoured my soul. I am lifeless; all that remains is my body.

Here I am, climbing up the high walls of someone else's home, doing another dirty work for the boss. I am about to live by the code again.

I am an assassin. I am the shadow.

I am called Dark.

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Nothing's special about me. I have a day job, getting paid by the hour, going home at the exact time, every freakin' day of my life. Ever since I graduated, companies were all over me. I had exemplary marks in college, getting a degree in management. My classmates used to call me "Baroness" (taken from the Philippines' walking encyclopedia "Ernie Baron"), since they believe I know everything. I beg to disagree.

For one, I don't know how to be with a "significant other", or what ever they call it. I mean, I still haven't had the chance to have a relationship. I don't know how, but it just happened. I still haven't found the right person I guess. I know this shouldn't bother me, but I just feel empty, knowing that I would wake up in the morning all by myself.

I also wasn't the most popular girl in school then. I was openly regarded by many as a geek, a nerd, an outcast, a nobody. That's how people saw me. What they didn't know was I also have some "coolness" in my body: I listen to the latest songs, I love R&B songs, I know the latest buzz. People around me weren't able to see past my appearance; they quickly judge someone from what they hear from other people.

I want to be heard. I want to change how people see me. I want to change my reputation. I want to be recognized, and not just another face. I want the spotlight, I want the fame. I want my name to be remembered, and sought for.

The Baroness is here.

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Being able to connect with people has been my lifelong passion. Music has been my medium to express how I feel, and this has been my kind of life ever since I first walked into the spotlight. I love the path I chose, and I refuse to give up this life I have so long built.

I get everything I want: money, the fame, the girls, the exposure. I have a dozen toys: Mercedes, Lamborghini, Lincoln, Aston Martin, Porsche, to name a few. I see my face on billboards every time I turn around a corner. I am widely recognized: The Future of R&B, so they say.

Yes, I am the future. I can make the world stop with my music. I can take everybody's time to hear me do my thing. I am an outcast, because I feel I am different from everybody; I am supreme, the most talented, the only one.

I am proud, too proud.

But February 14, Valentine's Day, changed it all. While driving my new girl to dinner, she blurted out that she was seeing someone else, that what we had was all a lie. She just wanted to be with me, so that paparazzis or whoever they are would see her with the hottest figure on the music scene, and therefore gaining her own spotlight. She just used me as a stepping stone; then after that, and this was what hit me, was that she told me... she told me she didn't love me. At all.

I, on the other hand, was ready to burst in tears. I was finally ready to settle down, to forego the high life and step away from the limelight. I was ready to take that chance with her. But now she ruined it. I stopped by the corner and told her to get out of the car. I drove off speeding... faster... faster... 80 mph... 120 mph... then...

Silence. Everything went blank.

What happened to the Future?

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I am the first to realize my talent, among all others. I am able to be anyone I wish to be. No one would see that I am a fake. I imitate almost anybody, and have been able to do that since I was twelve. I was in Grade Six then.

On my tenth birthday, my parents took me out for a stroll along the bay. We enjoyed walking along the shore: my mom near the water, me, then my dad along the busy road of Manila. We all have our own ice cream cones to munch on. Everything was so perfect; we all watched the sun set, as if it was its time to sleep. We stopped for a moment to marvel at God's work.Then the unthinkable happened.

By some twist of fate, a man walking towards us held a gun, pointed it at my father's cheek, and demanded that I would go with him. My parents pleaded and pleaded to the leave me alone. They gave all their cash, their jewelry, everything that they could give the man, so they won't have to give their only daughter to him. It was a losing battle: the dreadful man wanted me.

Why would he want me in the first place? We weren't that rich, and neither was my family prominent nor powerful. Why me? Why, of all the people, would he pick me? Am I different from other people? Am I too special for the man?

Realizing that the man wouldn't take no for an answer, my father held the gun and told my mother and I to run. I turned around, and started to run. That's when I heard the gunshots. I dared not to look around. I just kept running... running... far away from the scene. I never knew what became of my parents... until now.

I am now standing on the road, in front of a small house.

This is my family's. After eleven long years, I have never given up.

I am Hope.


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Different people, all from different walks of life. Little do they know that they are all connected, in one way or another. Besides, who can predict what lies before them? Who can say that they are bound to follow a common path, far from what they know right now?

I can. I know what's in store for them, and for many others. They do not and will never know me personally, but I know that they feel me with every step they make, with every action they choose to do.

I am always present, not just with them, but with all of you. You may have said my name twice, or maybe even thrice in your lifetime. I have been written in books; many authors have depicted me, either in a good way, or as the antagonist, which, in most case, happens. It doesn't matter, as long as they know I live.

I am the one responsible for this tale to unfold. I am the path you choose.

I am Destiny.