Kill me or make me feel alive
But would anything matter if you're already dead?
I honestly don’t remember how much time I’ve been here. And it’s not like I don’t know whаt year it is, I just stopped counting them long time ago. Because simply, I don’t care at all. And it’s not like I age, it’s not like I will get wrinkles on my face, it’s not like I’ll get sick and die. No, this will never happen. I will never get old…
Most mortals love the idea of eternal existence. But what they don’t think about is that existence doesn’t mean life. It’s nothing like real life, trust me. It’s pathetic and sad and it’s not worth it at all. I don’t want to do it anymore. I have no will to wait till the sun is already down because its rays hurt me more than anything, I don’t want to hide in the shadows and drink from pathetic drunk excuses for human beings who don’t even remember in the morning that I half-drained them last night. I sometimes wonder why I pity them so much and let them live or why I feel so sorry after I 'drink' from them. I don’t want any of this, I waited too long.
Well, yeah, when it happened, I wanted it so badly, I wanted to be one of those mysterious creatures I read in the novels about, I wanted to be powerful and beautiful, but most of all, I wanted to be dead. So, I killed two birds with one stone. I didn’t like my life at all and if I was born in this century, people would probably tell I’m depressed. But when I was still alive, people would say I was spoiled and badly-behaved. In their eyes, I had everything, and I still wasn’t happy. I had many things, indeed. My family was quite wealthy, so we lived in a great mansion with spacious rooms and there was always plenty of food on our table. I was an only child and my parents gave me everything they thought I wanted. They didn’t give me the only thing I ever wanted, though. Love. Affection. I never had that.
They were never really around and when they were home, my father occupied himself with reading, while mother was always doing housework even though we had plenty of servants who could do it. When I was trying to talk to her, she was always saying she was busy. When we were having supper, my parents would have a small conversation, a small talk about nothing in particular and then eat in silence. I’ve tried talking to them more times than I can count about the things that I was interested in or some recent news that our little town was interested in at the moment but nothing would catch their attention fully. They would answer with “Oh, yes?” or “Really?” but they never seemed interested in what I was saying, not one bit.
So, I felt very lonely, I suppose. Since I came from a rich family, it was like an unwritten rule to have acquaintances that were rich as well. Stupid and shallow, too. I really didn’t like them or the way they looked at things but I just had to be friendly and polite, for the sake of my family’s good reputation in the community. In conclusion, I didn’t have any real friends and it made me feel sad, just like my (non-existent)relationship with my parents.
But I had someone who would listen to me when he had the time, though. He was a servant and his name was Ray. He was really young, still a little older than me but probably our youngest servant and we were close. I’ve never been closer to anyone else after him…after what happened. That’s a different story and I might tell you about it some other time.
That’s enough for me, I think. These days (or maybe months) the only thing occupying my mind is my plan. And it’s probably a horrible one but I have no other choice. I’ve made the decision to kill a person for the first time and I am already sorry for the poor soul that I’m going to choose but, as I said, it’s my only option. I don’t wanna rot in this fucking stupid place anymore, I want to die for the second time, but now, I want it for real. And I will, I will die this time.
The only thing that makes the small human part in me that’s left feel less guilty is the fact that I will kill someone who wants it. I just have to pick one of those lost souls whose skin is itching to be pierced by my fangs, whose whole body itches to be drained, one of the people who want to be killed. And it’s really not that hard, vampires can sense human emotions, the way some people are happy with their lives, the way they walk down the street and their hearts beat faster than normal because they’re going to meet their loved ones, the way their eyes glow. The way some of them contain so much life and want and warmth. And there are the others, the ones who have lost all hope and love for life, the ones who don’t have a reason to continue and the ones who just don’t have a place to go to. Yes, humans are really that easy for me to read.
Tonight is the night. I will kill someone, I will give death just like a present to someone, who wants it just as badly as me. I will give it to myself as well. My guilt is slowly fading away…
Most mortals love the idea of eternal existence. But what they don’t think about is that existence doesn’t mean life. It’s nothing like real life, trust me. It’s pathetic and sad and it’s not worth it at all. I don’t want to do it anymore. I have no will to wait till the sun is already down because its rays hurt me more than anything, I don’t want to hide in the shadows and drink from pathetic drunk excuses for human beings who don’t even remember in the morning that I half-drained them last night. I sometimes wonder why I pity them so much and let them live or why I feel so sorry after I 'drink' from them. I don’t want any of this, I waited too long.
Well, yeah, when it happened, I wanted it so badly, I wanted to be one of those mysterious creatures I read in the novels about, I wanted to be powerful and beautiful, but most of all, I wanted to be dead. So, I killed two birds with one stone. I didn’t like my life at all and if I was born in this century, people would probably tell I’m depressed. But when I was still alive, people would say I was spoiled and badly-behaved. In their eyes, I had everything, and I still wasn’t happy. I had many things, indeed. My family was quite wealthy, so we lived in a great mansion with spacious rooms and there was always plenty of food on our table. I was an only child and my parents gave me everything they thought I wanted. They didn’t give me the only thing I ever wanted, though. Love. Affection. I never had that.
They were never really around and when they were home, my father occupied himself with reading, while mother was always doing housework even though we had plenty of servants who could do it. When I was trying to talk to her, she was always saying she was busy. When we were having supper, my parents would have a small conversation, a small talk about nothing in particular and then eat in silence. I’ve tried talking to them more times than I can count about the things that I was interested in or some recent news that our little town was interested in at the moment but nothing would catch their attention fully. They would answer with “Oh, yes?” or “Really?” but they never seemed interested in what I was saying, not one bit.
So, I felt very lonely, I suppose. Since I came from a rich family, it was like an unwritten rule to have acquaintances that were rich as well. Stupid and shallow, too. I really didn’t like them or the way they looked at things but I just had to be friendly and polite, for the sake of my family’s good reputation in the community. In conclusion, I didn’t have any real friends and it made me feel sad, just like my (non-existent)relationship with my parents.
But I had someone who would listen to me when he had the time, though. He was a servant and his name was Ray. He was really young, still a little older than me but probably our youngest servant and we were close. I’ve never been closer to anyone else after him…after what happened. That’s a different story and I might tell you about it some other time.
That’s enough for me, I think. These days (or maybe months) the only thing occupying my mind is my plan. And it’s probably a horrible one but I have no other choice. I’ve made the decision to kill a person for the first time and I am already sorry for the poor soul that I’m going to choose but, as I said, it’s my only option. I don’t wanna rot in this fucking stupid place anymore, I want to die for the second time, but now, I want it for real. And I will, I will die this time.
The only thing that makes the small human part in me that’s left feel less guilty is the fact that I will kill someone who wants it. I just have to pick one of those lost souls whose skin is itching to be pierced by my fangs, whose whole body itches to be drained, one of the people who want to be killed. And it’s really not that hard, vampires can sense human emotions, the way some people are happy with their lives, the way they walk down the street and their hearts beat faster than normal because they’re going to meet their loved ones, the way their eyes glow. The way some of them contain so much life and want and warmth. And there are the others, the ones who have lost all hope and love for life, the ones who don’t have a reason to continue and the ones who just don’t have a place to go to. Yes, humans are really that easy for me to read.
Tonight is the night. I will kill someone, I will give death just like a present to someone, who wants it just as badly as me. I will give it to myself as well. My guilt is slowly fading away…
Notes
This is the first fanfiction I’m posting. I know there might be some mistakes, since English is not my native language and I’ll be glad if you point them out in the comments but please, don’t be too harsh. Let me know what you think about the first chapter and if I should continue writing this. c:Thank you for reading.
zombie--
I just started reading this today and I just wanted to say that it's amazing. :)
9/7/14