As a little girl growing up in England, I'd always strived for the things I couldn't have. Those things consisting of excitement, adventure... My parents' sense of excitement and adventure was throwing an all-night dinner party or taking my sister and me to the park for an afternoon to run around.

When I was a teen-ager, I'd sneak out into the streets through my window, looking for anything that would come my way. A friend of mine named Katrina, who lived on the streets at night - which is how I met her, and she was very vague about where she came from - told me of a vampire coven named Desiderius Calm in downtown London. I thought it was pretty lame and didn't really want to believe her, but I went along.

When we got there, I realized Desiderius Calm was a big warehouse. Soft light poured out from under the closed door. It looked huge and daunting and the shadows from the moon cast tall shadows on the walls and threw them into corners that seemed to move with life.

I remembered being a little girl then, watching movies with vampires and going through old antique books my great-grandparents had left in the attic of our townhouse when they had lived there. One of these books in particular was on vampires. I remembered how I'd gingerly pull away the scarred brown leather cover, careful and gentle as if it were a butterflies wings, every time I'd sat down to read it.  The cover was bejeweled with rubies and sapphires and emeralds, and there was an illustration of a faerie on the cover. She had tattered black wings, her face turned up towards the stormy grey sky, black blood dripping down her chin onto her chest. Her arms were risen high towards her heaven, her legs were twined together and her feet were encased in battered ballet slippers, her body covered by scraps of cloth.

I'd found, and still find, her fascinating.

But when I opened the book and went through the illustrations, too frightened to speak any of the words of spells aloud, I'd always believe something of this nature existed. The book... the illustrations, the words, they were all too real to me. Even at that young age then and my age of sixteen now, I'd always believed.

But never had I seen or heard from one until this night, this black night with the full moon and twinkling silver stars, and I was beginning to doubt my own beliefs.

Katrina took my hand and I looked down as our fingers intertwined. She had intricate silver rings with black gems and jewels on every finger, a V of carved black leather over her hand where her shirt ended. We both wore black capes, I wore the one she had given to me our second time meeting, and our black hair was up and scraggly. She felt my hand tremble and smiled at me. She never showed her teeth.

My heart began to pound.

"Come," she was saying, "Come on. It'll be fun. Let's see if it's true." I didn't know what to say so I went along, but the look in her eyes had my heart banging painfully, bruisingly against my ribs. The heels of our black boots clicked on the stones of the street, echoed in my head. She came to the huge warehouse door and opened it just a tad. I was taller, so I could see over her head.

I saw people. Lots of people. They were all wearing black or red or silver, maroon or the darkest of greens. They moved their arms and their bodies against each others, so graceful I thought I could cry. The air was smoky and smelt slightly of alcohal, tobacco, sweat, and expensive perfume, but layered upon that was something I didn't recognize.. or didn't want to. It was coppery and thick, the scent was. I was captivated and didn't notice when Katrina pulled me inside.

We walked to the bar and sat down, my hand clutched at hers, the same way my heart was clenching in the blood that filled my chest. I realized loved it here already, felt almost as if I belonged, yet at the same time I was terrified and still felt somewhat the outsider.. There was something odd about these people. They were all white, unless they were black. Startlingly white, as though they hadn't seen the sun in centuries.

I knew, then, that I believed Katrina.

Now, as I look back, I question why I didn't get up and leave the minute I felt the truth.

A man behind the bar with shiny black hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail, his black shirt that was as shiny as his hair had the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, was staring at me. I looked away. He was startingly handsome, but startingly white and surreal. I heard the soft tap... tap... tap of his shoes as he walked towards us. My head was swimming with fear and delight as I concentrated on that sound, the boom of the bass and guitar and solid sound of the piano as they played now were merely in the background.

I felt Katrina shake my head, and I was suddenly shot back into reality. The man had stopped before us, and now the music seemed unbearably loud. "New here?" He shouted above the music. He smiled, and my heart stopped beating for that one instant. Something about him... there was something so familiar about his face, but I couldn't recall from where I'd seen it. He had a wide jaw and slightly sunken cheeks, which only added to the appeal of his face, and eyes that seemed almost black in the dim light. They flashed whenever he moved them. 

I wanted to get up and run, but Katrina's hold on my hand was tight. I sensed she was scared too, so I held on. I noticed he was staring at me now, and the question clicked in my head. "Yes, I am."

"Ah..." He leaned forward on those strong, white forearms, lightly dusted with thin black hair. His face was so close to mine I could feel his soft... cold breath. He then turned to Katrina, a question in his eyes.

I watched out of the corner of my panic-stricken eyes as Katrina nodded.

He turned back to me. "I'm Jack." Jack pulled back. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you." I didn't want something to drink because I couldn't think. I knew Katrina wasn't scared, she was in on something, and I tried to pull back but her grip on my hand was like iron. She turned towards me and slid off the stool. "Come with me." It wasn't a question or a request, it was a command. I shook my head but the look in her eyes told me not to argue or something terrible would happen to me then and there. 

So I went along, trying not to stumble out of my haste to keep up with her long strides and my fear that was beginning to take hold on all my limbs and joints. I felt the blood leak out from my head, from my neck, from my chest, and pool into a sick pit in the bottom of my stomach. Katrina pulled me through the horde of sweaty, gorgeous bodies, and each person in this dancing group turned their heads slightly to stare at me. Suddenly, the music was gone to me, everything was surreal again, magical, and everything was in slow motion. I heart the tap echo of my heels on the cement floor, the beat of my heart roaring in my ears.

"What is she, what is she... What is she WAITING FOR?" I was so startled by the sudden scream I was shot back into reality yet again. It was the singer on stage who I hadn't paid attention to. He was watching me, everything still in slow motion, as he cradled his microphone to his mouth. He had black and red slicked black hair, a beautiful face. He smiled and pointed out at me with a sharp-nailed finger. "You don't give a good God damn about redemption," he sang... Sang to me. The music blurred as I was pulled behind a heavy satin purple curtain shot with gold and silver thread. Katrina let go and Jack came in behind me. It was a tiny box of a room with cushions that matched the curtain hiding this room.

A scream caught in my throat as Katrina reached out and snatched my hands, pulling my body to hers. She kissed me softly on my trembling lips, a habit that had been ours since we'd met. "Don't be scared. I need you." I stared at her silver black eyes. They weren't human to me.

I felt my cape drop to the floor and Jack's hands rest upon my shoulders. The leather suit I wore had a high neck, covered it like a kimono. I felt his fingers, soft as air, pull it down. I wanted to struggle but all I could do was drown in the silver black pools that were Katrina's eyes. She kissed me again as my head was twisted to the side and pain seared through me. She held onto my hands as Jack tightened his grip in my hair and bit into the soft flesh of my neck and drank the thick red liquid of my blood. I cried out, sobbed, tried to get my hands free to save my life.

But it was over, and I was dropped onto the gold and purple satin pillow. My lips were slightly parted as I willed air into my gasping lungs. My eyes glazed over and Jack and Katrina were mere looming, black figures to me. I turned my head slowly, clutching the pillow under my body with the last of my strength which was willed from fear, as Jack kneeled towards me. I felt his hand cup the side of my face, my gaze going in and out of focus. He pulled back and the side of his hand was red with blood. My blood. A silver tear slid unnoticed by me down my freezing cheek. Everything was cold and odd and not real. I was dreaming.

Jack looked at Katrina and then bit into his wrist, and I watched this through half-closed, blurry eyes. His hand came up and cupped the back of my neck. He put his wrist up to my mouth. "Drink."

This was fake, it had to be. I'd read about this in stories, but this wasn't the way of it. I didn't want to be a vampire, I wanted to die. Die, die, die. Suddenly a memory came flooding back, and my eyes shot wide open, and they darted to Jack's face. He was the man inside the book. His drawing... James, James was his real name. Same face, same hair. He looked exactly the same as he had when he'd died and come alive again in the 17th century. I tried to cry out, but it was a sad, pathetic weep. I put my lips to his bloodied wrist and drank what I could before I collapsed back, dead still.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

Jack's hands were on my face, soothing, smoothing my hair back. "The pain will not last forever." I heard him say, but it was as if I were in the back of a tunnel, and he were at the other end, shouting to me and it echoed off the still, damp walls.

I heard the soft, tinkling sound of a piano, the sad, weepy sound of long strokes on a violin, a deep, rich cry of a long pull of a bow on a cello string.

My body arched and I screamed out. Unbearable pain, I felt my guts wrench and my heart scream as it beat against my chest with hard, deep thuds. Katrina and Jack held tightly to my hands as my back arched almost to the breaking point and my teeth began to chatter.

My body shook and trembled, my legs kicked out in with a fury I'd never felt before. My head began to beat on the cushion, and I was thankful for it because if it were the cement I'd bash my head in. I began to bite my lip, but stopped, careful and scared that I'd draw blood. My teeth chattered harder, I felt them change and wanted to rip at my mouth. Silver tears slid from the corner of my changing eyes. The whites filled with blood as the iris changed from green to silver to green to black. Then the blood drained away and out of my face.

I went still.

My eyes were open and stared at the ceiling. My brows were high, my mouth in a small O of suprise.

They slid to Katrina, who smiled now, showing me for once her teeth.

The tears never stopped.

I turned to Jack, who let go of my hand and cupped my face and leaned down to kiss my cheek. "Katrina has told me about you, love." He was saying to me. "You belong with us now."

'No! No! No.' My mind was crying out, but I felt nothing. My heart still beat but everything was cold to the touch. "What did you do to me?" My mouth felt odd and wet. I ran my tongue over my front seven teeth and closed my eyes. I didn't have to ask. Before I let them answer the question I turned to Katrina, "Why me?"

"Because I could read your thoughts." She said, her voice just above a whisper, her words seemed slurred together in the most beautiful way. "I've been watching you for a while." She paused then asked, "Do you remember the night when you were seven years old, and you got lost in the park at night?"

I looked away as her hand came up to stroke my cheek. Memories flooded back in a wave. I was small and lost, everything black and shadowed and blurred. I heard rustling in the trees and bushes and wanted to cry out. Instead, I merely ran the other way. Wanting to find my way home...

"You? You were in the trees?"

Katrina nodded. "I knew your memories, I knew you. I know about the books in the attic and all the times you sat in the window seat in your bedroom gazing out, wishing desperately for something more." Her hand stilled on my face. "You have it now."

I had it then.

Later, much later, after I grew accustomed to what I was, I began to watch. I watched my family whither and die, my father drink himself dead because his little girl was gone. But now, I still watch over those who belonged to them, who were born to them. It's been almost three hundred years and I've hunted more victims than I want to be accountable for. I've known for almost three centuries now... The stupid saying was true.

Be careful what you wish for.

You just might get it.

Current Playlist: Yo-Yo Ma – Cello Suite No. 5.3 Courante, Cello Suite No. 5.2 Allemande, Cello Suite No. 2.1 Prelude

Puscifer – RCV 22.20 and Renholder – Now I Know, Falling Through the Sky

Secret Garden – Illumination, Silent Wings, Rain, Fairytale, Awakening, Aria, Reflection, Elan

Currently Reading: Nora Roberts – Dance Upon the Air  

Surgery on my mouth went well... Just lots and lots of pain and wooziness. Feel sick.. but I miss everybody. See all of you tomorrow or Thursday.

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Apollo was telling them to be brave.

Athena was telling them to fall in love.

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