A Notebook Full of Words
the random scribbles of a developing writer

Prologue to ‘Memory’ (LORD book 3)

            Her name was ‘remember’. Oona. It had always haunted her, with the destiny it brought. It had always spoken of a future that could not be changed, though she did not yet know what it was.

            Apart from this, Oona was perfectly normal. She was like so many teenage girls – a seemingly mindless clone who never seemed to talk, or even think, about anything with any degree of intelligence or originality. She had no particular interests that marked her out from others of her age. In fact, she did not appear to have any particular interests at all.

            At fifteen years of age, even Oona’s appearance was completely average. Her exceedingly curly, light brown hair was artificially straightened, an early-morning ritual that infuriated her parents. Her green eyes were rimmed with mascara and eyeliner; she was of medium height and weight, but obsessed over getting fat. She did not stand out in a crowd, dressing as she did exactly the same as every other girl her age. Her parents tried in vain to persuade her to take up a hobby: she was simply not interested.

            “Why should I?” she would say. “Why should I waste time on music or dance or football or drama, just because you want me to have a ‘hobby’? Why should I bother?”

            “You never know,” they would say, without much hope. “You might find that you enjoyed it.” And she would laugh scathingly, preferring to spend her free time at the shops with her friends, frittering away their money on clothes she did not need and makeup she never got around to wearing. They started to despair that she would ever find something to occupy her time in a more productive way.

            But Oona had no such worries. She considered her parents to be old-fashioned, interfering busy-bodies, who had no idea what it had been like to be fifteen.

            Until one day, when a startling coincidence and a twist of fate changed her life in ways that she could never have imagined.

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