I once asked my father if monsters exist. I had been reading an old book of fairy tales, the kind wrapped in ornate, dark brown book-covers and overflowing with scary stories. The stories had freaked me out, and I couldn't sleep with the lights off.
In answer, my father quoted an old writer who had said something like, âOf course monsters exist. Every child knows they do. The fairy tales tell us that monsters can be beaten.â Little did I know that I would grow up to fight those monsters.
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If someone had told me I would not only fight the monsters, but also be instrumental in stopping one of the greatest monster uprisings in modern history, I would have laughed in their face. I was nothing special. I was not a âchosen oneâ who was fated to save the world. I never felt some special calling to join forces against the darkness.
I have lived and lost much. I have seen darkness rise like a tsunami from the ocean and swallow much of the world. Betrayal and hurt, triumph and joy have all attached themselves to my life in unimaginable ways. The following is my account of what happened. May those who read it never forget.