The Sail Was Black The Guilty One Funny to think... none of this would have happened if I had controlled myself. I mean, it's natural to feel jealous, isn't it, when the one you love doesn't love you back? But I never anticipated that my envy would take the situation so far. Sometimes, I sit by myself and think about the ifs. If I hadn't gone to the enchantress. If I hadn't agreed to the deal. But now that I think about it, I don't need to go there. I need to go back to that fateful day... If I hadn't said the sail was black. The sail was white. I look like a sixteen-year-old girl. I walk and talk like a sixteen-year-old girl, one among a million. Everyone thinks that's true. But the real truth is kept hidden in my heart. The girl who speaks to you is one thousand, one hundred and eighty-three years old. And she's on the verge of destroying the entire world against her will. Today, I don't really know who my enemy is anymore. Back then, my real enemy was Isolde. Then, my enemy was Morgan. Now? I feel like my only enemy is myself. I have manipulated time like a handful of wet clay. I have put the entire world in stereo, all for my selfish desire to be loved. The curse made every person mildly involved with my story be reincarnated, again and again. The world is full of peasants, full of handmaids and dukes and ladies. But there's only one Tristan. One Isolde. One Mark. And one me. The enchantress gave me twelve chances to find Tristan, wherever in the world, and get him to love me. I am on my twelfth chance. And if I fail this time, then the world and its inhabitants will all cease to be. If you are reading this, then I am dead. You are dead. And I am your killer. Call me the Guilty One. *****So, watcha think? If you like where this is going, go to www.figment.com and search for The Sail Was Black. Meanwhile I will try to continue. LUV U ALL!!!!