To the librarian and his tome that has my name in it...

Do you know what it's like, dear readers, to lose your entire childhood?

For me, it was entirely unexpected. I had merely caught a glimpse of the old man, and then, just like that...

Gone.

My childhood ended when I first learned of the monsters. When I first saw the tall man outside my window.

Innocence died that day. And the next, my family. How old had I been? Fifteen? Sixteen?

How old am I now? Has it even been a year? Or has it been much, much longer?

On the rare occasion I find a mirror, it seems I have only aged a year or two.

But it also seems I've grown scales and fangs.

That one small glimpse, that tiny scribble into the book, is the entire cause of my current identity crisis.

I remember not who I was, but at least I know who I am.

Well, I like to think I do in any case.