It's The End Of The World... Again

CHAPTER 1

To many of you what I am about to say will sound like a fairy tale, like a story that I am pulling from thin air. But I promise, everything that I tell you is true. There have been rumours in the past but they have been quashed by those who "know better", those who stopped the truth from being out in the open from the start. I have never understood why anyone would want to keep the truth to themselves, you would think that they would have learnt their lesson during the great war. Chances are you will never hear from me again after I tell you this story and people will insist that I was a liar, an old lady looking for someone to listen. A hag with no history. Do not believe them and make sure if you are to ever relate this story to anyone else then do it quietly, secretly and not get caught. If you do then say good-bye to everyone that you know because if they ever see you again you won't be the person that they once knew.
You have all heard of the great war I assume. Tell me, what have you learnt from that? Nothing? Of course not, that is the way that it was meant to be. But this all started before the great war.

There was a young man names James Frogger. Some thought that he was a little eccentric, others thought that he had completely lost the plot. For many years no one saw him. He ordered his groceries via the Internet (that is like your television, though interactive. It was a place where people were able to research whatever they wanted, free speech ran rampant- perhaps a little too much. There are rumours that some people still have computers but they are slowly being tracked down) and waited for the delivery person to exit before retrieving his groceries.
I remember a friend of my brothers, Marcus, who worked at the store where James ordered his goods from, recounting how he hid behind the bushes for hours trying to catch a glimpse of James, but he never came. In the 2 minutes that he took respite behind a tree the groceries vanished.
He was born the only child to wealthy parents. Little is known of his childhood as he was home schooled by him mother. Despite their riches parties were never thrown and the family became virtual recluse. As was popular at the time they were e-commerce rich (another internet based career) and were therefore not required to associate directly with people. His father, who was a large man- rounding up to 6 foot 5 inches and weighing in at around 200 kg (440 lb). The scuttlebutt on the street was that his mother, who was on occasion seen tending the garden which was a veritable forest therefore hiding many of the windows from prying eyes, was quite the opposite. Short, petite and hidden behind a bush of red hair. Some believed she was beautiful, others heard rumours that she was as hideous as a troll.
I remember conversing with him once and he insisted that his mother was the most beautiful creature to have graced the face of the earth, that she was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind during the years of seclusion.
"I used to sit there at my study window and watch the children pass by the estate. Most of them looked in my direction but I knew that they could not see me and my heart would break. But then my mother would enter the room. Her beauty and her love would radiate to me and I would know that it would all be okay." he would say. I remember we all sat riveted as he told us stories of his life as it was almost like listening to a novel on tape. His life had been a fairytale story, something that you only ever saw in movies or Virginia Andrews novels. He was our own personal novelist.
Despite lacking childhood friends, and many adult ones that he quite possibly would have met had he led a normal life, he was not lacking any form of material wealth. His house was once listed on the National Heritage List for all the tales that it had to told. Before being purchased by Mr. & Mrs. Frogger it was occupied by many elegant and truly interesting people. It often hosted extravagant balls, the most memorable the year that the Honourable President, John Boyah, attended the Blue Ball. It was during these festivities that he received the fatal head wound that would be the beginning of the end for the national government.
Mystery still surrounds this murder due to his notoriety for being the first President of a much despised system. Rumour flew that the current owner of Winifred Estate (later renamed Frog Hollow by James' parents) had hosted the Blue Ball (named so because each person was required to dress in only shades of blue) as a means to bring the President to his home as he was later discovered to be a Nationalist Radical, one of the most feared groups of vigilantes during the era. He was opposed to the changes that had taken place within the government over the years without the national consensus due to the slow and subtle approach that was used.
The official report insisted that it was an accident, that whilst trying to reach a novel on the upper shelf of the 2 storey library (later to become James' private study) he fell and [repeatedly] hit his head upon the Australian hardwood desk and floor. Because no one could hear the thud his corpulent torso made as it cracked the floorboards. I digress. The Froggers moved into 'Frog Hollow', which backs onto a heritage rainforest, five years after their marriage. No one knows how they met or how they became recluses. The moment that they moved into the small community of Harrison they became the centre of rumours.

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