(──the beast ! ) ─────────────── ❛❛ SO IT FOLLOWS, THEN, THAT I AM CRAZY, OR APPEAR CRAZY, OR THINK I AM CRAZY, AND POSSIBLY I MAY BE CRAZY. ❜❜
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F O R E W O R D A N O T E F R O M Z A R A ────────────────────
—IN MY END is my beginning.
That's a quotation I've often heard my mother say. It sounds all right—but what does it really mean?
Is there ever any particular spot where one can put their finger on and say, "It all began on that day, at such a time and such a place, with such an incident?"
Did my story begin, perhaps, when I made my dramatic debut in this world on the first of October, 1989, along with forty-two other cursed children across the world, born from women who gave birth spontaneously?
Or you could say that it all had its beginnings when I met Five. I can still close my eyes and see the sharp, aristocratic features, the dark brows drawn together in a scowl that never seemed to leave his face, the deep-seated pain within him that I did nothing but worsen.
But if this is a love story—and it is a love story, I swear—then why not begin when my adoptive mother, The Handler, gave me my first and last real assignment for the Commission?
Yes, I think that's where I ought to start. I don't suppose it matters much, though. Endings, beginnings . . . it all gets so complicated, doesn't it? That's the funny thing about life—none of it really matters—none of it at all, except the end.
So let it begin.
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