One Life: Episode 7 IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT (last page)

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Zggs:
Yes sometimes sims eyes are quite alluring.

babyblue1387:
I can't wait to get started on the part that comes next! I think I'll start writing it up tomorrow. The pics will be a challenge, though:(

Zggs:
Sometimes a challenge is good.  And I hope you got my prize :D

babyblue1387:
Ok, here's the deal. This might be a two part deal. This here might end up being book one, and book two might end up being V is for Vengance. Why? Because I haven't done much writing over the summer, and when I start thinking about this story, The ideas don't seem to stop flowing. So, here's another update!
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“No, no, no. There is no cure. Oh, how my heart lusts for one! How I would love to end this endless night that I’ve been confined to!”

“Do not play with my heart!”

There was such malice in his eyes that I thought, for a moment, he would hit me. He kept his composure, though, and eyes said all that he said aloud.

“Why would you need a cure?”

“There’s more to life than being able to walk in sunlight! I look at the man I love every day, and see more and more wrinkles! I look at my daughters and know that they are closing in on my age and will soon be older than me! I look at my son and see his life so full of the knowledge that he has found someone he can leave this world with!”

“You can still leave this world with your husband. We don’t need you here.”

“Why did you come here in the first place? Did you actually want something?”

“Why are you holding onto your mortal emotions? Do you wish that you were still mortal?”

“With every day of my life. And you do the same. Now get out.”

He nodded, and obliged, something I hadn’t expected him to do. As he reached the door, he stopped and turned to look at me, as if he had something extra to say. Instead, he only smiled and bared his fangs. Turning on his heel, he left, and I can tell you for sure that I was not sad to see him go.

I was left uneasy that night, so I finished off the pot of tea that he’d made. I found it disgustingly hard to believe that he just, out of the blue, decided to come here. He must have had a reason, but got caught in his own selfish need to pester people. There was no doubt in my mind that he thought to tell me of his reason as he stood at the door. There was something that he didn’t want me to know.

Over the next weeks, the boxes began to disappear, and with them, my girls. They’d be going away to college, and I knew this would be hard for them. They did agree to go to the same college, something that I am grateful for, though I can’t help but wonder if it would hinder them later in life. At least, this way, they’d always know someone is right there next to them if they needed help. Truly they are the best of friends, and I envy their relationship sometimes. The only person I’ve ever felt that close to was my mother, and now she’s half a world away from me.  But not for long.

I’d received a letter from her stating that she’d be coming back soon for a visit. She’d also be bringing a friend. In her letter, she said that this friend was someone I should already know about, and immediately, I knew that this is what that horrid creature was supposed to tell me. Given that a messenger was sent ahead of their arrival, I was sure that this was someone important. Unfortunately, since the messenger was that fool, I had no way of knowing who or what to expect, or what kind of preparations I’d need to make. Meanwhile, I had other problems to worry about.

Aiden wasn’t doing to well. He’d embarked on some secret project and spent nearly every waking moment working on it. The stress, I feared, was wearing him down. He would not tell me what this was, but always called it his greatest experiment. He promised me that I would love it once it was completed, but gave no further details. There were a number of things I thought it could be, but I didn’t waste time thinking about it. I was more worried about him. The grey in his temples had spread to nearly all of his head. He wasn’t eating right, he wasn’t sleeping. He had a weird schedule where he’d work all day, and sleep half the night only to get up and write furiously in his journal. He’d pace the halls during the day, and work again all the next night. I worried that this project was making him loose his mind.

He did take time to see the girls off, and they were thankful for that. I was thankful for someone to lean on when my legs gave way to grief. I tried to shield my pain from my daughters, but I knew they saw hurt in me. Poor Mira, I could tell in her eyes that she worried about me. Who would I talk to? Who would wait to make sure I came home well fed? Who would share a silent joke with me? Her reluctance was all to visible, and I wanted then to tell her that she didn’t have to go if her heart did not want to. Yet it was my heart yelling for her touch and the smell of her shampoo. I wanted her to stay for my own selfish reasons, and so I kept my mouth closed. I blew kisses to them and Aiden gave them one last talk about making sure they did their homework and always went to class. We didn’t have to worry, though. I knew they’d be in constant touch. Still, it hurt finally letting them go. Our house was eerily quiet from then on.

I hated coming in from feeding. I dreaded the moments when I’d open the door to an eerie silence. The house seemed so dead. Even the dog’s quiet snoring didn’t seem to make a dent in the empty space left by the girls. The only thing I had to look forward to was my mother’s return. Even then, I was uneasy, not knowing what was in store once she returned. I’d nearly lost track of the time since she left. It’d been nearly a year. A whole year had passed, which would explain some of the grey in Aiden’s hair, and the more mature appearance of my daughters. Not to mention Bartholomew would be coming home soon for his wedding. Hopefully, there would be grandchildren on the way to occupy my time as well…

Time never seems to make itself known to me anymore, so I was surprised when there was a knock at the door late into the night. A quick glance at the calendar told me that, yes, it was time for my mother’s visit. At once, I was excited and anxious, wanting so much to sit with my mother and talk for years about what she’d seen and done, and yet afraid of what might be standing on the other side of the door with her. I’d taken necessary measures to get a secure place for my mother to sleep, at the least. Without knowing who this guest would be, mortal or vampire, I didn’t know what to do. I’ll admit that my hands did tremble as I opened the door. My mind didn’t register her at first, but it didn’t take long for confusion to settle on my face and in my mind. How could this be? What cold heart could have done this?

babyblue1387:
'Nother update today. Sure hope you guys aren't getting tired of it:(
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A child! She stood on the porch next to my mother, looking at me, her eyes seeming to pierce my soul as if she’d seen and known me before. I couldn’t help feeling a chill go through my body when she looked at me. There was none of the childish innocence in her eyes, and I doubt this child could have pretended even if she wanted. There was, however, a worldly knowledge that I could never hope to have. Not for a long time to come, at least. Her hair was flaming red, her eyes, a light purple, almost giving the impression that she was blind. I’d hardly looked at my mother, for this child immediately drew my attention.

“Have you nothing to say after all this time?”

I looked at my mother, and she waited with open arms. I couldn’t help smiling at seeing her. I was vaguely aware of the child stepping aside so I could hug my mother tightly. Her body was slightly warm, so I knew that she had fed already. There would be time to talk before she had to sleep. Oddly enough, I didn’t know where to start. There was so much that I wanted to tell her and to ask and to understand.

“May we come in?”

I nodded, eagerly, stepping aside so that my mother and this child may enter. Again, I felt my eyes being drawn to her, and the oddness of her being. She didn’t walk like a child. There was no spring to her step, no bounce that was so characteristic of children, and as she passed me, she turned to look on me. Even though she tilted her head in the way that a curious child does, there was nearly no curiosity in her eyes. She was very much like a porcelain doll. Her features were delicate, with all the plumpness and youth that one would expect, but with every hardness of someone who’d lived for many, many years. She could be no older than 10. It pained my heart to see this child so mature so young.

“Well, Dahlia, this is the friend that wanted to meet you! The one you were told about!”

“He did not tell her. Just as I did not expect him to.”

I imagined my heart stopping then. My mother didn’t seem to be at all bothered by this older voice coming from this child’s body. I heard a slight accent, but it was not a childish one. Her voice held wisdom, and I knew then that she was older than me, older than I’d ever be, even if her body might not age. My mother frowned for a minute, thinking about this new development. So this was the surprise that waited for me, and I was worried. She was a vampire, and yet I didn’t have sleeping arrangements for her. She seemed to understand the worry, undoubtedly evident on my face, and smiled.

“I have brought my own coffin. I could hardly expect you to have proper accommodations for me. The limits of this man often sicken me.”

“Why do you still put up with him?”

“Because, for the moment, I need him. But I won’t for much longer. I have you, now. Right?”

I admired the ease with which my mother spoke with this little lady. It was as if they’d spend a lifetime together. Yet there was still a distance between them. The distance that no amount of time together can bridge. I offered them seats and got a put on a pot of tea.

“If you have chamomile, I would very much appreciate that.”

I nodded in the general direction of this wonder of nature. Had some cruel fate befallen her? Had someone given her a second life in order to save her first? Who had created her? How long had she been around? I was lost in my thoughts, so I barely heard my mother telling her that I made really good tea. I only bought fresh tea leaves and, of late, I’d taken to attempting to grow my own in a little greenhouse I’d built out back. I’m sure my mother had to call my name a couple times before she got my attention.

“So much has happened since I went to Europe, but I’ll let Ina tell her story since you’re undoubtedly wondering.”

I sat down at the kitchen table where I could keep an eye on the tea and still see this child, Ina. I waited as she studied me momentarily, taking in my features.

“You look very much like your mother. She is a wonderful lady. But, ah, the sun will rise sooner than we will expect, and there is much that you would like to know. My name is Inamorta. It is not the name that I was born with, but one that I’ve chosen myself. I will admit that I was young when I first chose that name. Inamorta, immortal. Over the centuries, though, this name has grown on me, despite my momentarily annoyance with it. During those times, I went mostly by Ina.”

Centuries! Centuries, she said! I couldn’t believe my ears, and yet the irony was not lost on me. She was the oldest and the youngest vampire, I thought. But then, that could not be true, because she had to be made into a vampire. She couldn’t have been born that way.

“Well, my father was a wealthy man, and he’d made some very powerful people angry. They were a small group, seen as eccentric by many other politicians. They were known for their violence against those who did not totally agree with them. I heard others warning my father to listen to their advice, but he would not listen. He was such a stubborn man. He had his own ideas and he would not yield to those he deemed beneath him. Unfortunately, we suffered for his blindness. Politics is not about change and helping others! It is about money and power!”

I watched as her face became contorted with anger. How strange it was to hear these words come out of a child’s mouth! My children knew nothing of, nor cared for politics at her age! It was a shock to me to have to adjust to this new phenomenon. At any rate, the tea was done, and I got three cups, setting out cream and sugar along with the tea. My mother and Inamorta joined me at the table. The look on the child’s face was solemn, and the mother in me wanted to pull her into a hug, but I knew she did not need it.

“Your tea is exceptionally good. Your mother was right to brag.”

I smiled at the praise. She almost had a motherly air about her, much like I remember from my childhood. And yet, was she not a mother to us all in a way? If she truly was centuries old, how many vampires had she created?

“My father’s contemporaries warned him of Lady Baudelaire who had married the wrong man after her first husband died. Moving would not simply solve our problem, for this man had moved across several continents and untold cities, and still they hunted him like hounds. In the end, they killed her and her unborn child, and burned down the castle. He didn’t want that to happen to us.”
   
She paused and stared at her cup. I waited for her to continue, wanting to know more, but unwilling to push her. We sat in silence for a few minutes, my mother looking on pleasantly as if she were being told a bedtime story. Undoubtedly, Inamorta had told her this before.

“My father was unwilling to give in, the foolish man. I loved him though. I loved him only as a child can love her father after loosing her mother. He was all I had and all that I’d known. My mother died birthing me, so my father had been my world. This group did come for us, but we were not killed. What hate they must have held for my father for them to turn us so! There was a fire, as they are wont to do, but I’m not sure what happened that night. When I awoke, I felt like I’d died. It was a terrible feeling! My body was rejecting anything, and I was cold. After the grace period, others began to see us differently and called us devils. They beheld us with awe and fear. After seeing our house, I knew we were not meant to survive that fire. I knew because there was nothing left save ash. There was nothing! Even the ground was scorched beyond any decent repair.”

Here she smiled grimly, and I knew she was remembering clearly in a way that only we, as vampires, could. I leaned forward now. Her story captured me, and my mind ran wild with excitement.

“My father was unwilling to accept the changes that he’d seen in himself, and, apparently, in me. He was afraid and without guidance. He said he no longer saw in me the innocence that I once had. Though I held him the same as always, he said there was no longer comfort in my embrace. It is true when they say that some are not made to live forever. He was not, and so denying the changes, ran out into the sun. I did not see my father die, for I did not fight off the death sleep as it came over me. He did, if only long enough to run out into the day. I am glad that I did not see my father die. When I awoke that night, all I saw was a pile of ash. There was nothing but ash and so I gathered him up and placed him with the ashes of our house. How he loved that house! It was the place he’d first seen my mother, later asked her to marry him, married her, conceived me, I was born, and my mother died. That house was his life, and so I left him there. With my father gone, I knew they servants would not accept me. They barely tolerated me with my father around. He was the one thing that protected me in this world, and now that protection is gone. I knew of only one place to go, and I loathed the idea of it. Yet who else was there to teach me all that I needed to know? I knew that I had urges that I’d never had before, that I needed things that I didn’t need before. I was hungry and my body was weak. The food that I’d so enjoyed before seemed repulsive to me and no matter how hard I tried, I could not force that stuff into my body.”

She looked sad. Sad as if the weight of her years pressed down on her. I started to reach out a hand to her, but caught myself and pulled back. My gesture did not go unnoticed, but she did not chide me. Instead, she smiled sweetly and put a tiny, delicate hand on mine. Her eyes were kind, and I wanted her to hold me and tell me that my second life won’t be so bad after all. She did no such thing, perhaps knowing there was much that I needed to adjust to.

“I came to them dirty, and tired, and starved to death. They said they had been expecting me, and took me in. They gave me the sweetest nectar I had ever known, and in those moments where I first fed, I knew that I hated them. I knew that I hated them for making me what I am, hated them for making my father, for making the others hate me, for making my own nanny, who’d been as a mother to me…for making her turn her back on me when I plead on my knees! For making her turn her back on this…demon! She said she did not know what I had become, and feared that my soul was damned. She feared for me, and there was pity in her eyes, but she would not hold me, would not come within 5 feet of me! I cried because of the pain of hunger, begged her for food, but she only shook her head. I hated them for making her act that way to me. I hated them for making my father kill himself. And yet, I needed them to survive. I wanted them dead."
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So there we have it for this installment. I'll try to do another update tomorrow, but if I do, it'll be a short one. Still looking forward to hear what you guys have to say!

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