Post by Demetri Volturi on Aug 24, 2010 14:48:33 GMT -8
October 1540
I have been dead for three months today. That’s what this is, isn’t it? I can’t call this new life of mine living. He said this was a gift and called it an honor. But he must have been mistaken. This is no gift or honor. The things I have done in these three months, the people I have killed. I can remember their faces. No this is no gift. I am dead and this… well this is hell.
Three months ago I woke up somewhere away from Volos. The last thing I remembered clearly was my engagement party. But somewhere in the dark I remember a pale man with ungodly red eyes and there was the pain. Something that burned through my entire body. And when I woke I was alone. The man who did this to me left me to fend for myself. He let me run wild consumed by a never ending thirst. I had no guidance. No direction. I had no rules. And my thirst consumed my humanity.
I remember my first meal. I want to forget it but I still see her. She was a child. She smelled like flowers as I reached for her. Her hair was soft black curls and she had big brown eyes. I can see her now as I write this. Just a child. Playing with her doll in the city street. Her pink dress sat against her soft olive skin reaching her ankles. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t even really know what I had done until I had let her go and did the same to the next human I met on the streets. It was only when my thirst had been somewhat tamed that I could see her face. Her young carefree face. Words cannot describe how I loathe myself and that memory.
You see, I have my moments when I feel barely human. When my thirst is somewhat tamed I can be conscious of who I am, of what I am doing. These moments however are short lived. That need I have returns often stronger then what it was pervious. And I cannot help but to give in. I cannot write down the things I have done. I won’t admit to them.
But I remember this is hell. There was no reason for that man to choose me. So why am I to be punished?
My mother. My father. Everyone. They believe I have been taken by god. I attended my own funeral, can you even imagine? A newborn stood among people and watched as the cried over an empty casket. It was hard to stand there. Part of my humanity listened to their cries and saw their tear streaked faces. In their minds I was gone. My mother, my beautiful mother, looked like all the color had faded from her world. My father, my strong father, looked shattered. And then there was her.
My bride to be. My un-beating heart actually broke as I watched her cry. Never before had I seen her fall apart like that. I had always said she was too beautiful to cry. She was perfect. Deep green eyes and thick eyelashes and a smile that was infectious. She was kind and sweet. I knew when I met her that she was my other half, that she made me complete. I believe her love matched mine stride for stride. There were nights we would walk hand in hand among the wild flowers under a starry sky. Those nights we made so many plans. I had only ever really truly loved her. I loved no one else. No other came close to her. I fear no one else ever will.
I have been ripped away from her and the world we had laid down at our feet. She and I could have done anything together. But seperated I am nothing. She was the only thing I ever really wanted. And to have this life instead, I am damned.
