I never asked to lust after that fresh, warm, tantalisingly smooth taste of human blood. I never asked to be hit by wave after wave of venom when a scent so sweet threatens to have me ruined, exposed. I never asked to leave my family behind, trapped in their human world. I never asked to have almost translucent pale skin that glitters with a thousand diamonds whenever I set foot in sunlight. I never asked to be beautiful and stand out from the crowd. I never asked to be forced into spending so much money on contacts, to mask my bright red eyes. I never asked to be a flash of colour when I run. I never asked to be able to crush rocks with my bare hands so easily. I never asked to hear, see or smell better than any animal that exists. I never asked to be . . . a Vampire.
But I did ask one thing.
Not to leave me there.
Not to leave me, dying, in agony, in pain worse than any car crash, any stab wound. I was there, lying in a pool of my own blood, surrounded by people I thought I knew well. And I had just one request.
Not to leave me there.
And they left. The only thing I asked of them. And they couldn't do it. They ran, gone.
So I was left, stuck in a dark alley in the middle of a deserted town for three days. I waited, praying for death, for it would have been a sweeter way to end this pain.
And then. It stopped. Like I light being switched on, it stopped. I lay there, my clothes torn, sticking to the dried blood on the cobbled floor. And that is when I noticed. The deep tears in my skin, gone. I looked around, everything so clear. I looked at my skin, so white. I stepped out into another deserted road, the sun bouncing off the dried dusty floor and I saw my skin. Beautiful. I passed an empty shop, the window brown with grime. But it still showed my face, beautiful. Far from the ordinary girl I had been last week. Then my nose caught a smell. And like a thousand ropes were tied around me I took off, practically flying toward them. Them. That poor, poor defenceless man. He didn't know what had hit him. I'm glad. He was dead before he knew it. At least, in my haste to get to my goal, I had not tortured him. Human blood. So, smooth, so warm. So out of this world. I never thought I would ever taste human blood. Then again, I never thought Vampires were real.
But they are. And I am one.
Who am I?
Oh. Well, I used to be Emily Lauren Smith, silly simple names, not really standing out.
Who am I now?
Oh. Well, now I am Demetria. Nothing else. Just Demetria. I think it's a good names. One that one of them would have had. I haven't found them yet. That's were my story begins.
When I see a picture of one of them. In a shop window. I catch their scent along the side of that street. I know I'll find them know. That's what I do. Find people. Or some may say track.
And when I find them.
Oh. When I find them. . .