DISCLAIMER:

I Do Not Own A Walk to Remember or Vampire Diaries, LJ Smith and Nickolas Sparks do.

Lara Jade's Point of View:

The heavy gong, gong, gong sound of the church bells rang out from our little town of Beaufort, North Carolina as the funeral began. My father, the reverend of Beaufort Church, made the speech that usually opened these solemn occasions. As the reverend's daughter, I received my share of these occasions and more.

This time, it was a bit more personal. This time, it was my mother who was lying in the casket, looking peaceful for the first time in years.

It was my turn to view the body. My brain seemed too consumed by grief to even notice this, but thankfully, my body knew what to do. And so I approached the casket and looked down.

Mom. She lay there, eyes closed, face perfectly tranquil. Though she seemed at peace, there were several things wrong with this picture. First, she wasn't smiling. Mom always smiled, even during the worst of times. Even when the illness struck. Second, she was wearing black. My mother, for as far back as I could as I could remember shunned away any chance to wear that dark and depressing shade. She would always complain that it made her naturally ivory skin give the impression of being translucent. Well, that was the usual complaint before she grew ill and before her skin did eventually become translucent. The third thing wrong with the picture was…

A small hand gently squeezed my shoulder and I turned to see my only friend, Katie, behind me. That was her way of telling me that my time of viewing was up, that I'd best go sit down before I did something I'd later regret. I nodded, barely enough for even her to catch, before my legs carried me back to my seat.

Reverend Knighton gave me a sidelong glance before turning his attention back to the crowd. He, among the others, must have been wondering why I had taken such a long time at the casket. But he had other worries as of right now and would ponder my nonsense later when his brain could cope with such thoughts.

I tuned out the rest of his speech and when it came time to pray, I was the first to kneel. Words and sentences swirled through my mind as I made the attempt to make coherent sentences, even if God already knew my heart's greatest needs. I prayed to God that mom was safe in His hands. I prayed for the pain to end. I prayed for a light to show itself at the end of this infinite tunnel.

Somehow, the rest of the hour passed quickly and it came time to shake the hands of all old family friends who would tell me how sorry they were and how Mom had changed their lives'. I heard every story without really listening to them, without interpreting their feelings towards her.

The casket was taken back to the mortuary when the last person walked out the door, the burial postponed since the heavy rain made the cemetery grounds a treacherous mess. It was as if the skies were weeping all the tears I couldn't produce. My father rubbed my arm and met my gaze.

"Come on, kiddo," he murmured as calmly as he could, "let's go home."

Again, I nodded. I felt like a android, a machine with no feelings of its own, doing only what it is told.

Dad locked the double doors behind him and together we walked to the last car in the lot.

I don't know how, but my face stayed dry the entire time. Nightfall was a different story, however.

Alexander's Point of View:

I awoke at midnight next to a dead girl's body.

It wasn't the first time that had happened, but I so hoped that it would be the last. I wished that every time I had come out of the stupor of emotionless bloodlust, but the wishes of a forsaken vampire never came true.
I didn't know this girl, didn't remember ever crossing her alive… her glossed-over eyes set in her slack face held no familiarity… held no memories.

Then again, that was always how it was.

I pushed the drained corpse away from me and wiped her blood - AB positive, I couldn't help but note - from my mouth. By looking at her, I could tell two things. From that I could put together a possible scenario of what happened. First, she was a runner. Her jogging shirt was torn, showing off a beautifully sculpted figure formed through years of hard work and obsession. Maybe it was her racing heartbeat that drew the me to her in the first place. Lastly, her dirty face managed to hold her final emotion: fear. She was aware of my presence… aware and afraid, which meant I hadn't used my compulsion on her. My eyes closed and I nearly gagged. The adrenaline that runs through the body somehow makes the blood taste so much better and fear spikes adrenaline. If I didn't use compulsion on the poor girl, it meant the monster inside me was enjoying every last drop.

I was so certain I had gained control of it… the thirst. Apparently, I didn't give enough credit to my monstrous half.

Maybe this whole idea about going back wasn't such a good idea then…

No.

If I knew one thing, it was that I wanted to return to my original home before… I didn't dare consider the thought because I didn't want to risk talking myself out of it.

The girl's grave was shallow, certainly not what she deserved, I was sure… but she probably didn't deserve having the life sucked out of her either.

With a remorseful sigh, I turned away and headed to my old home.

Beaufort, North Carolina.

a/n: Because of my insane schedule, I may be able to produce only one chapter every other month. So, if I haven't posted in a while, don't worry, I haven't given up on the story, I just haven't had time…

a/n: Also, please review, flame, whatever. Don't be afraid to raise your voice! Special thanks to damonsalvatoregrl for the first review. =)