Charred Beauty

To Whom It May Concern:

If you’re reading this, then you’ve discovered something about the truth of Rosewood and it’s led you here. Please understand that what we did, what I did, was out of the best intentions for the rest of the country. Judge us as you will, but please reserve that judgment until you’ve finished reading the story I’ve been asked to tell.

There was a time when all was right and happy in the world. When my days were filled with song and laughter. When my life was brighter simply because my family was whole and complete. But things change they say, that’s the nature of the beast. Beast. But what do people know of a beast’s nature when they’re too afraid to get close enough to find out?

Ever since my adolescence there’s been tale of a wild beast that roams the countryside. It steals animals and scavenges farms. Personally, I never put much stock in these tales – what would a beast want with farm equipment, feed, or whatever it supposedly stole? It’s a beast. The animals I understood, even monsters get hungry. Except that the only reduction in livestock numbers happened on market day. So there honestly wasn’t much reason to believe in these stories, much less spread them around, unless of course you were a parent who wanted to warn your kids from wandering off at night, but mine were never the sort. Let’s be serious, though. Me, the bookworm, wandering off on some adventure? Not likely. That’s why I read books. Because nothing ever happens in Rosewood.

But I digress. Anyway, so there was this legend about the beast, right? The one that no one really believed was real but refused to say so just in case it was. Fear, it does strange things to people. And no one believed it less than I. Except for maybe Billy, but he’s afraid to leave his house at all, so what would he know? So Billy excluded, I was of the opinion that the people of my town were crazy to be afraid of the woods that nearly completely surrounded our little town. Naturally they said the same about me, only for the opposite reason. Have I lost you yet? Because I think I’m confusing myself. I am going somewhere with this, I promise.

So. One afternoon my mother and I travelled into said woods where the beast was “known” to lurk in order to take a shortcut to the next town over, Clearshore. I know, weird name, right? Especially since they’re landlocked. Anyway, Father needed new supplies for his next invention and I wanted a new book that our bookshop didn’t carry, so Mother and I went on a little adventure through the woods. And you’ll never believe what we discovered.

Absolutely nothing.

Oh don’t look at me like that. Like I took away your hope. I did nothing of the sort. The beast wasn’t rumored to appear until after nightfall anyway. Mother and I found out later that night that our town was right to fear the woods at night, though not entirely for the reason everyone believed.

To be honest, though, if there was one day in my entire life that I could take back as I look back on it, it would be this one. At least that night. If I could have only convinced Mother to stay in Clearshore for the night, then maybe it would have never happened. Or maybe if we’d never gone in the first place…

The only problem is that if this night were erased, my entire future would be as well. Erased and completely rewritten. And I honestly can’t imagine my life working out any differently than it has. I read once that out of the worst pain and suffering comes the most brilliant life. Or something like that. So I don’t hate the pieces of my past anymore. It led to my future. Anyway, I promise I’ll explain everything, but right now, while you read my story, you need to know this one thing: I was wrong. The Beast exists. Don’t go out to the woods at night. Don’t even step outside your door. In fact, don’t even open your door. Do and you’ll die. Just trust me on this – you’ll understand why.

Good Luck, Isabelle Caron