Part I - Never Too Late
"This world will never be
What I expected
And if I don't belong
Who would have guessed it
I will not leave alone
Everything that I own
To make you feel like it's not too late
It's never too late
Even if I say
It'll be alright
Still I hear you say
You want to end your life
Now and again we try
To just stay alive
Maybe we'll turn it all around
'Cause it's not too late
It's never too late
No one will ever see
This side reflected
And if there's something wrong
Who would have guessed it
And I have left alone
Everything that I own
To make you feel like
It's not too late
It's never too late
Even if I say
It'll be alright
Still I hear you say
You want to end your life
Now and again we try
To just stay alive
Maybe we'll turn it all around
'Cause it's not too late
It's never too late"
~From "Never Too Late" by Three Days Grace
Suicide.....indeed a witty little sentiment, really. A clever blending, it is derived from the ancient word "suicidium", from "sui caedere?, meaning, quite literally, to kill oneself. Its definition was of course crafted by those scholarly men of perceived self importance who ultimately decide what mere words are to mean.
Suicide is in fact classically defined as ?the act of intentionally ending one's own life?, though it is also used as a metaphor for the "willful destruction of one's self-interest".....either as an individual or as a group. Willful destruction....that's what they choose to call it....yet they also deliberately fail to mention in this grandiose definition how it gravely effects those surrounding the committer of such a selfish deed.
Now, despite this transparent omission, it is considered common knowledge that suicide may indeed occur for a number of reasons. Our self-opinionated gentlemen cite depression, shame, pain, difficulties with finance, or other ?undesirable? situations as all credible reasons for this horrific act.
Undesirable.....Hmmmm.......a worthy term to describe the very beginning of all this.
It was beyond odd....beyond insanity......both troubling and infuriating all at once....at least to her. Giminicka Orcand did not know where she was.....or more pertinently WHY she was in this place yet again. As it would unfold, the wrath-filled priestess was seemingly watching a replay of life events.....or rather stuck in her own powerful body reliving its tragic game once again.
It was, aptly enough, an extremely dark night of violent storms which ravaged the foreboding skies and churned the surrounding seas to an angry, frothing frenzy. This night, The Isle of Shadow was outwardly caught in the proverbial 'End of Days'
Inside their quaint Grecian-styled home on the blessed Scathachian Island of Shadow, two desperate women spoke in raised tones of wrath, anguish, and despondent sorrow.......one locked inside of a bathing chamber, the other pounding on the heavy oaken door with the fury of great Zeus?s harpies.
Giminicka, known by her loyal Scathachian Sisters as Eris, was fittingly the incensed harpy.....hammering on the unmoving door with her bare hands......striking the thick wood so hard in fact, that her large bloody handprints now adored its facade. Her true blood sister Diaranil, renamed Apollonia in the Scathachian sect, had locked herself in the bathing chamber over an hour ago.
Giminicka was not home when her sibling Diaranil wrote the melancholy note explaining exactly why she was bowing out of this miserable dance and ?leaving?. The brutal storm, perhaps a baleful omen, drove Giminicka back home from the Temple earlier than expected.....early enough to hear the heavy bolt soundly lock the bathing chamber door.......
When Giminicka had found the note which her disheartened sibling had left for her on dinging table, the large Scathachian Eris bounded for the closed door with the speed of Mercury, himself. Diaranil, however, was no fool....and she threatened outright in her sorrow to do the dark deed immediately if Giminicka took a weapon to the door or left to seek help from the other Sisters on the scared island.
Their morose conversation, separated from one another by this cold and impersonal slab of wood, ranged back and forth.....the sad truth, however, was vividly blatant. Diaranil Orcand, now a sanctified Daughter of Scathach, was in truth, spiritually drained and emotionally finished....she was all but done with this world of mourning and barren heartache. Apolllonia could no longer force herself to live for her sister...depression's crafty and unfair tendrils had dragged her too far into the murky depths of both sorrow and self-loathing.....from which there was no resurfacing.
The older Orcand sibling had done all she could do to ensure her younger sister Giminicka's safety and future, since their parent?s untimely death well over a decade earlier. Diaranil had even take the greatest part of this daunting journey with her oft angry sibling, as they both utilized their exceptional skills to train and sacrifice in order to become genuine Scathachian Judges. Both blood sisters had been initiated into the great sect of Justice not more than four months prior to this night of Hell?s rebellious upheaval....this night when the powers of darkness began their ruthless bid for a new champion to raise their black banners.
"This world will never be
What I expected
And if I don't belong
Who would have guessed it
I will not leave alone
Everything that I own
To make you feel like it's not too late
It's never too late
Even if I say
It'll be alright
Still I hear you say
You want to end your life
Now and again we try
To just stay alive
Maybe we'll turn it all around
'Cause it's not too late
It's never too late
No one will ever see
This side reflected
And if there's something wrong
Who would have guessed it
And I have left alone
Everything that I own
To make you feel like
It's not too late
It's never too late
Even if I say
It'll be alright
Still I hear you say
You want to end your life
Now and again we try
To just stay alive
Maybe we'll turn it all around
'Cause it's not too late
It's never too late"
~From "Never Too Late" by Three Days Grace
Suicide.....indeed a witty little sentiment, really. A clever blending, it is derived from the ancient word "suicidium", from "sui caedere?, meaning, quite literally, to kill oneself. Its definition was of course crafted by those scholarly men of perceived self importance who ultimately decide what mere words are to mean.
Suicide is in fact classically defined as ?the act of intentionally ending one's own life?, though it is also used as a metaphor for the "willful destruction of one's self-interest".....either as an individual or as a group. Willful destruction....that's what they choose to call it....yet they also deliberately fail to mention in this grandiose definition how it gravely effects those surrounding the committer of such a selfish deed.
Now, despite this transparent omission, it is considered common knowledge that suicide may indeed occur for a number of reasons. Our self-opinionated gentlemen cite depression, shame, pain, difficulties with finance, or other ?undesirable? situations as all credible reasons for this horrific act.
Undesirable.....Hmmmm.......a worthy term to describe the very beginning of all this.
It was beyond odd....beyond insanity......both troubling and infuriating all at once....at least to her. Giminicka Orcand did not know where she was.....or more pertinently WHY she was in this place yet again. As it would unfold, the wrath-filled priestess was seemingly watching a replay of life events.....or rather stuck in her own powerful body reliving its tragic game once again.
It was, aptly enough, an extremely dark night of violent storms which ravaged the foreboding skies and churned the surrounding seas to an angry, frothing frenzy. This night, The Isle of Shadow was outwardly caught in the proverbial 'End of Days'
Inside their quaint Grecian-styled home on the blessed Scathachian Island of Shadow, two desperate women spoke in raised tones of wrath, anguish, and despondent sorrow.......one locked inside of a bathing chamber, the other pounding on the heavy oaken door with the fury of great Zeus?s harpies.
Giminicka, known by her loyal Scathachian Sisters as Eris, was fittingly the incensed harpy.....hammering on the unmoving door with her bare hands......striking the thick wood so hard in fact, that her large bloody handprints now adored its facade. Her true blood sister Diaranil, renamed Apollonia in the Scathachian sect, had locked herself in the bathing chamber over an hour ago.
Giminicka was not home when her sibling Diaranil wrote the melancholy note explaining exactly why she was bowing out of this miserable dance and ?leaving?. The brutal storm, perhaps a baleful omen, drove Giminicka back home from the Temple earlier than expected.....early enough to hear the heavy bolt soundly lock the bathing chamber door.......
When Giminicka had found the note which her disheartened sibling had left for her on dinging table, the large Scathachian Eris bounded for the closed door with the speed of Mercury, himself. Diaranil, however, was no fool....and she threatened outright in her sorrow to do the dark deed immediately if Giminicka took a weapon to the door or left to seek help from the other Sisters on the scared island.
Their morose conversation, separated from one another by this cold and impersonal slab of wood, ranged back and forth.....the sad truth, however, was vividly blatant. Diaranil Orcand, now a sanctified Daughter of Scathach, was in truth, spiritually drained and emotionally finished....she was all but done with this world of mourning and barren heartache. Apolllonia could no longer force herself to live for her sister...depression's crafty and unfair tendrils had dragged her too far into the murky depths of both sorrow and self-loathing.....from which there was no resurfacing.
The older Orcand sibling had done all she could do to ensure her younger sister Giminicka's safety and future, since their parent?s untimely death well over a decade earlier. Diaranil had even take the greatest part of this daunting journey with her oft angry sibling, as they both utilized their exceptional skills to train and sacrifice in order to become genuine Scathachian Judges. Both blood sisters had been initiated into the great sect of Justice not more than four months prior to this night of Hell?s rebellious upheaval....this night when the powers of darkness began their ruthless bid for a new champion to raise their black banners.