*A/N: I don't own Vampire Academy, or the characters you know and love. This is my own fan fiction, created for what I hope will be your enjoyment.
The airport is packed. People are squealing, shouting and embracing as their loved ones return home for the holidays. But there are only two faces my eyes are searching for in the sea of people. They are the two faces I'd know anywhere, the faces that can brighten my day no matter how bad it's been. My daughters.
I pull my phone out of my pocket once again and check for messages. The irrational fear that they have missed the plane is eating away at me. I know it's over kill. It's just that they've been away for too long. Yes, I know it's for the best and all, but that doesn't make the time apart any easier, or go any faster. Much to my relief there are still no messages.
So I stand there, stretching onto the very tips of my toes, waiting for my first glimpse of them. It's been six months since I've seen them, and the time has moved painfully slow. It's going even slower now as I wait for them to appear.
"Mum!" I hear a familiar voice cry.
I spin in the direction of the voice and instantly find my girls. Tiannah Louise and Akeso Jasmine – or Tia and Kes for short. They were born eight weeks premature, but they were fighters even then, never giving up even though the odds were against them. They're my daughters, fathered by a man I can't remember, and I love them with all that I am.
They both crash into me, sending me stumbling back a few steps before I can steady myself. I reach up and wrap my arms around their necks, holding them tightly as tears well in my eyes. They're home. They're safe. My heart it once again complete…well as complete as it will ever be. Call me crazy, but I always feel as though something is missing.
"Mum," Akeso whines, "you said you wouldn't cry."
"And you said you wouldn't grow any more," I say with a slight laugh as I pull back from them, ensuring I keep a hand on their shoulders. "Now, let me look at you both." I add before I can get the common response of 'we were five at the time', complete with a roll of their eyes.
They look a lot like me. Their long, thick, dark brown – almost black – hair has the same natural wave as mine, their pearly complexion matches perfectly, and their slender figures have inherited my curves. But apart from that, I don't know who else they look like. They have brown eyes, but there are warmer and more liquid chocolate in colour, and personality wise, they are cool, calm and collected with an occasional spark of fire. And they are already taller than me.
"Gosh Mum, pull yourself together," Tiannah gasps as she looks around with flushed cheeks. At fifteen, everything I do embarrasses them in one way or another, so I simply chuckle as I swipe away stray tears with my shoulders. "Seriously. It's only been a few months."
"And I've missed you both every second," I tells them before kissing each of them on the forehead. It's quite a feat given their height and unwillingness to bend down and be embarrassed even more.
We walk out of the airport with our arms linked and hail a taxi from the busy sidewalk. A car is a luxury I can't afford, and I don't really need one anyway. Everything we could possibly need is within walking distance from our apartment. The airport is the only place I need a car to get to, and since the girls only come home from the academy a couple of times a year, it's cheaper to use taxis.
"How are classes going?" Tia asks once we're speeding along the freeway.
"They're going really well," I reply. "We have a couple of new girls that started a couple of weeks ago."
"Do they live in the building?" Kes asks.
"They sure do," I say with a smile. Kes and Tia pretty much know everyone in our apartment building, and they're always keen to meet and welcome any new comers. "They're fairly young, so everyone's pitching in to help them get settled in."
I've been running 'self-defence' classes for almost twelve years now. I had started self training when the girls were only toddlers. I was severely out of shape and feared I wouldn't be able to defend them if we happened across strigoi at night. I managed to source some equipment for a fraction of the regular cost and began working out whenever I could. It wasn't exactly easy to find time between my shifts at three separate diners and raising the twins, but had to make it work.
Soon after, other dhampirs in the building started asking if I could train them as well. And off it went. I charge only a minimal amount for the classes, only enough to cover the costs of purchasing new equipment and maintaining what we have. A few of the women even took to making practice dummies after I sourced some stakes from some shady moroi. We make do with what we can get or make. It's how we do things in the building.
"Can we come to the classes while we're home?" Tia asks as she stares out the window. "You're a better teacher than any of the ones we have at the academy."
"Helps that you've actually had to fight some strigoi," Kes adds with a shudder. "I'm pretty sure our combat teachers have never even seen one much less had to fight for their lives."
An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach as Kes mentions the strigoi I've fought. The only reason I know that I've killed any strigoi is because of the molniga on the back of my neck. It's supposed to be an honour – from what I've been told – and maybe it would be if I could remember how I actually got them.
"Of course you can," I tell them, pushing away the feeling of unease. "I'd love to see what they're teaching you at the academy. Especially if you claim it to be so awful."
Half an hour later the taxi stops in front of the apartment building we call home. I have lived in the same two-bedroom apartment since before the twins were born, and have no plans to leave any time soon. Sure it's cheap, old and severely run down, but I love it all the same. It holds our lives, our memories.
"Wow Mum, love what you've done with the place," Kes jokes as I unbolt the door.
Sure four deadlocks may seem a little excessive, but it isn't a great neighbourhood. And I don't just mean strigoi. I can defend myself as well as any other dhampir in the building, but a human brandishing a gun does have a certain advantage.
"There's been an increase in activity around here lately," I say as I drop my keys on the kitchen counter. "Human and strigoi."
The building is home to single dhampir mothers mainly. Most of them have trained at an academy at some point, but have chosen to raise their children over a career as a guardian. So normally strigoi would stay away, and the crime rate is fairly low. We can defend ourselves, and when our children, or each other, are in danger, we are rather lethal. That, unfortunately, isn't enough some times.
Just last week four residents were killed just outside the building. The alchemists did their job in covering up the evidence, but we all know what happened.
"Maybe it's time to move?" Tia offers as a solution.
"That's not an option for so many reasons," I say as I pull the meat and vegetables out of the fridge for dinner. "But until things settle down I don't want either of you going anywhere without me."
"Mum!" they exclaim together.
I knew before the words had even left my mouth they wouldn't be happy about the decision I'd made.
"There's no negotiating on this one," I tell them in my best 'I'm mother' voice.
I hate to do it, but their safety will always be my top priority. I knew they would have made plans with their friends from the building before they returned home, they always did. Trips to the mall and movies with the kids they grew up with had always taken place when they came home from the academy. It had never concerned me before – even though I am what my daughters considered to be an over-protective parent – but rumours are flowing that humans have been watching the building for strigoi. And I wasn't going to take any chances.
"Come on Mum, you can't hold us prisoner here for the entire month," Tia demands. "We need to get out for air sometimes."
"Then you can get air with me right beside you," I reply as I chop the carrots. "And you're not the only ones, so you can stop acting like the entire world is against you."
The girls stomp away down the hall towards their bedroom as I continue to prepare dinner. It's only beef and vegetable stew, but it's something I can make without much thought. As the meat, onion and garlic sizzle away in the pot I finish chopping the rest of the vegetables. I tip them into the pot and add some stock and spices before turning the burner down.
With a sigh I flop onto the couch. I had briefly considered checking on the twins, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. They're both angry with me for keeping them house bound, even though I'm only doing it for their own good. I knew seeking them out would only make the situation worse. Guess that's another thing they got from me.
A couple of hours had passed before the twins resurfaced, and they make it perfectly clear they're still annoyed with me – and that's putting it nicely. Between the slamming of the cupboards and heavy feet on the wooden floorboards, they make it blindingly evident they don't appreciate my parenting.
"Would you just stop," I call out towards the kitchen. "I get it, I'm a horrible mother for wanting to keep you both safe. But slamming the cupboards and attempting to create holes in the floor isn't going to change anything."
"No, but you stopping being so bloody over-protective would." I hear one of them mutter.
"I heard that," I tell them as their footsteps retreat back down the hallway.
I love my girls more than anything in the world – even when they're acting five instead of fifteen – but it was going to be a really long month. I know it's unrealistic to believe I can keep them cooped up in our small apartment the entire time, especially when I only have a couple of weeks off work.
But I still had to try. I can't really explain the reason. Call it a gut feeling, maybe. I just know I need to keep them close to me at all costs. For the first time ever I was actually hoping for a snowstorm. The kind that would shut down the entire city. At least that way they would have to stay inside.
Dinner is eaten in silence, and as soon as the girls finish they sulk back to their room, leaving me to clean up. I wash and dry the dishes and put away the leftovers before key-locking the deadlocks to ensure there are no attempts of escape. I trust my daughters most of the time, but they are as stubborn as I am at times.
I fall into bed with my mind racing at a million miles per hour. A small apartment, two teenage girls with nothing to do. I need to think of something – anything – that will work for them as well as myself. Otherwise I'm going to quickly lose my mind.
I stare up at the ceiling, wondering what I was like at their age. I wish I knew. Perhaps it could have helped me to know what I needed to expect from my daughters. Maybe I'd know how to combat their boredom.
Not remembering is always the hardest when I lay in bed waiting for sleep to claim me. Faces flash into my mind, but their identity is a complete mystery to me. I hear and feel things I have no explanation for. I feel like I'm going crazy. It feels like I'm no longer feeling myself, but someone else entirely, even though I know it's not possible.
My fingers play with the leather bracelet secured to my left wrist. It's the only thing I have from my life before all of this. From before the twins, from before London. It's the only connection I have to a life unknown to me. For me, the bracelet – as plain as it looks – symbolises that that time of my life is real. It existed. I just can't remember it for some reason.
All I know is the past sixteen years of my life. And sometimes that just isn't enough.