Soul Seeking

Summary: Confusion and disappointment taints my hidden past, death and fear engulfs my new present. The future holds nothing...my stilled present captures me and leaves me unmoving, but I try, for my sister I try. In all my years, not once have I spotted her in the other world. This gave me hope; this kept me searching for my sister. Alice was alive, human or not, I would find her.

Prologue

Dear Diary: My name is Katherine Clare Brandon. Never have I thought to waste my time writing in some ancient journal, but I guess an hour of my time couldn't make much of a difference. I snorted very unwomanly, I should add, wanting to drop my blue point pen and stop writing. Just the thought of forever sent chills of ice slithering down my stone spine. Forever is the 'F' word. My quota; never speak it, spell it, think it. Shall I dare to continue thinking of it now, or spell it! I looked down at my failed attempt at writing a journal entry, and wanted to groan. For Christ's Sake! I thought. I can't keep failing at everything I do. I can't even write in some little journal without wanting to give up. This is ridiculous. What would my sister say?

Shame shame shame...

I bit my lip as I picked up my weak brittle pen, writing along the line-less paper in elegant cursive.

I am a vampire...unfortunately.

A monster...scarier than the ones in those stupid fairy tales.

A blood drinking monster...sums it right up, should've written that in the beginning.

I squeezed the pen hearing it crush under my hand as the blue ink splattered all over the yellow toned paper. Gosh what's with my deep maniac depression now days? Damn it! Stop with the negativity Katherine! I screamed at myself. I took out another pen out of the box, noticing that there was only one more left. Great. I thought I bought more pens then this. One more try to get this right. Start off simple and to the point.

I am a vampire. I wrote again.

Since I was born into this life, I have been searching for my sister, Alice Marie Smith I don't know if she's alive, but I can't just not try, right? I have to look for her, and I will find her.

...

Never have I imagined myself to be so alone. It's kinda embarrassing to admit that it scares me so much. But I guess you could call me a Nomad, although I hate being labelled that, heads up. Nomads are defiantly not this nicest of vampires, you're probably wondering what vampires are nice? The ones that are nice actual don't enjoy being vampire because the thought of killing something, or someone that has life just crushes you.

Nomads kill, not only because they need to but because they want to. No lie, they'll kill you for the heck of it. No reasons needed. They're full of greed and hatred. All they do is kill kill kill. Humans and vampires alike, they don't care. They are lethal, filled up with human blood and crave to pick fights with any roaming vampire. Nomads are possessive and careless...and did I mention greedy? Anyways I would know. Not just because I once was a nomad but because sadly my mate was a nomad himself. I know, I know horrible right but all I will say is, it didn't end up with a happily ever after. I can be feisty when need be, and let's just say he was starting to get on my nerves.

I frowned. This is not how journals are supposed to start. I thought to myself. The beginning is always best.

I started with the date. 1829. London England.

I was born in London, England. The year of 1829...well at least that's what my foster parents told me. My sister and I were orphans but we were both lucky enough to be adopted into the Smith's family. I laughed lightly to myself. Yeah right, Lucky we were not.

Anne Murray Smith and John Farmer Smith were like the parents from hell, my sister and I literally thought that the devil had possessed them. And I am positively sure they thought same of us, the feelings were defiantly mutual between the four of us.

But let me not only talk about the bad. No need to be a Debbie downer on life.

At first they were very kind and dare I say adoring. I have never felt love from anyone other than my sister, but when I first moved in with the Smith family damn did I love them and I could swear that I thought they loved me. I had never been happier.

I never really knew much about my real parents and I didn't care to know anything about them, after all, they did leave my sister and I abandon in an old worn down farm. I mean seriously my sister and I weren't born four eyed with a scaly tail, I swear we were human at the time. Why they ditched us at birth I don't understand. They wanted nothing to deal with us, and I wanted nothing to do with them.

The year of 1844. I smiled. Everything was perfect. Alice and I had just turned sixteen. We were twins, and even though we never truly knew who was older. We decided when we were eight that we needed someone to be the older sister, because for some reason we just couldn't settle for being the same. There needed to be a little sister and an older sister, and no one wanted to be the younger sister. Someone had to be boss. So we settled for a game of 'tic-tac-toe'. Crazy? Yea just a bit, but that's Alice and I for you.

Unfortunately for me, I lost, badly; losing all five games almost put me comatose of complete dishonour. I could sometimes swear she could read my mind or something, she knew my every move.

Although unfortunately for me it was decided she was the older sister and she never let me forget that.

Stupid Tic-tac-toe...

In our small town we were highly known. And let me tell you, it wasn't because we were the only twins in the town that we attracted so much attention. Oh man do I wish it was that. But the attention we got was bad, very bad. The town's people thought Alice and I were witches. Outrageous right? No. It's actually kinda ironic, now that I think of it. Vampires, witches...they weren't that far off, kudo's to them. We were lucky not to be publicly hanged as soon as these suspensions a-rised.

Honestly we really couldn't blame those gossiping, nosey, prying, selfish townspeople. Can you tell I'm not too fond of them? Alice and I were defiantly above ordinary, and trust me we defiantly weren't one of those smug, cocky rich-kids; that thought they were bigger than life, nope, we were above ordinary in the sense that we had strange mystical powers that no one could understand, not even us.

And when people don't understand something...it doesn't go over well. In our case they wanted us dead.

No knew a thing about are powers, until we reached the age of seventeen. Then all hell broke loose. One small mistake changed our lives drastically. It changed both of our lives, even though it was only one persons fault. It was my fault. I knew it and Alice knew it, even though she would never openly admit. She never wanted to make me feel bad. I was the younger sister after all.

I pushed my journal and I clenched my hand in a painful grasp, I looked down to my wrist, my old rusted watch read, 11:35 it was almost time. I could feel my palm aching, the heat coming from my palm was blistering.

The time when the darkness took over the earth, was the time that I searched for my sister. It was easiest this way, most spirits and ghost seemed to be more agreeing to help me at this time. Every time at the darkest hours of night, not a minute late-let's just say the spirits had quite a temper; I would find an isolated place, whether it be a cave or a meadow. Then once I was completely alone from any wandering humans, I would soul search, in other terms explore the spirit world and see if my sister was there. If my sister was dead or dying, I would see her there. But in all my years, not once have I spotted her in the other world. This gave me hope, this kept me searching for my sister. Alice was alive, human or not, I would find her.

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