Chapter One

Early one morning, while the red sun began its slow ascent to the sky and the horizon was a film of orange and purple penetrating a darker blue, I found myself drawn to that small pond on my father's land. It was still and silent; peaceful in every sense. To the blind eye, it seemed to be absent of any movement or disruption at all; more of a painting than a living scene. I liked that perception of the pond because it was simple and existed perfectly in the present. Unfortunately, I am not one of those peaceful souls who can accept this image and deny what lies beneath the surface. If I learned anything in my high school biology class, it was that the pond would be brimming with life. Surely, there were countless, microscopic organisms fluttering about, doing what they could to exist. In fact, it was my perception that all life was in a continual struggle for existence and, in the case of the "nobler" species, purpose.

No, I could never be like those peaceful souls. My mind was a continual dialogue of questions and philosophies; a continual struggle to find reason in circumstance and actions. I cannot glance the surface and enjoy the thin veneer when I know that so much more lies beneath. That pond had secrets, and I intended to find them out. "Someday," I thought, "I will lay down in the cool grass and enjoy the scene." That would be left for another day, though. I had to get to the hustle and bustle of my life; full of commitments and obligations that wore on the mind like waves against stone, slowly eroding the surface and sweeping the loosened pieces deep out to sea.