Introduction
I wish I could tell you my story was fake. Just for fun
But then I would be lying.
I believed everything when I was a boy. But in 1810 everyone believed in everything.
I wish I could tell you that my story had a happy ending, but it does not. Far from that actually,
I do not expect you to believe I actually went through this, Only I, and my mentor and several others
I have chosen to trust.
Everyone has there own unique story, No matter how empty the pages may seem
No matter how dull they may appeal, The amount of words and pages do not make a story
It's the experiences, and memories are what make a life a great book for someone to read one day.
Only, My story is far from a good book to read. I feel sorry for the poor being that must some day.
When you think of a vampire, you must think...Sparkles...Pale...Beautiful...Ageless...Immortal.
Push aside the fairy tales you wish where true.
When I was a boy, I use to play with insects none-stop. My favorites
where spiders, I use to pretend that I could control them.
Like they where my puppets. I had many sisters who were terrified of them
Maybe that was my fault. I would put them in there hair if they had ticked my off some how.
My older brothers where much too busy to really pay close attention too me.
I was usually by myself. And usually...that was a bad mix.
I found trouble, underneath a rocks, hard hollow shell.